


C'est La Mort

by Hapkido9061



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst and Tragedy, Car Accidents, Character Death, Do Kyungsoo | D.O-centric, Getting to Know Each Other, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, KaiSoo - Freeform, Kim Jongin | Kai-centric, M/M, Multiverse, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 05:26:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20222542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hapkido9061/pseuds/Hapkido9061
Summary: Soulmate tattoos are given to the lucky few by the Universe herself. Jongin knows this. Kyungsoo knows this. Every life, every fleeting moment, doesn't have to be spent alone if they can find their other half. But the Universe is full of cruel jokes. Because if there's a life where they can be together, they haven't found it yet.And all the loneliest stories eventually fade.





	C'est La Mort

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Reckless #110  
Warnings: Major Character Death, Suicide  
Author’s note:This is a pretty heavy story, I think, that has multiple suicides and death. While I didn't expand on many emotions that Jongin and Kyungsoo experience, know that I don't take this sort of thing lightly and don't mean to offend anyone by the situations I put them into. I chose my prompt based off of a random number and so even I wasn't expecting such a dark/depressing prompt but I tried my hardest to do it justice!
> 
> Also, I suggest listening to the song C'est La Mort by The Civil Wars while reading this (it's where the title comes from)

Jongin takes his time before getting back to the meeting quarters on the lower level of the ship. Her walls are coursing with a familiar energy that Jongin is reluctant to leave. Sehun is organizing their next hit with a customer and, technically, didn’t need Jongin’s presence. Talking to their hires has never been Jongin’s strong point. His personality is too timid, too shy around new faces for him to be of any use. Yixing is slightly better, but not always when his mind delves off into tangents.

But Sehun- Sehun can bullshit his way through talking to any of them. Even if the customers didn’t trust Sehun because he was a human (they all were, even if Yixing doesn’t act like it sometimes), he could gain their trust and money in a heartbeat. Being born on a wasteland such as Earth works against them until they prove themselves worthy. Space had no room for broken spirits and whining messes.

Deciding that joining into the edge of the conversation halfway through isn’t appealing in the slightest, Jongin turns to the left at the fork in the hallway to get to the galley. It’s around dinnertime and the eldest of the three probably took on the chore of cooking. Jongin’s suspicions prove right when the spicy smell of food hits his nose.

“What’re we eating tonight?” Jongin asks, flicking the cigarette from his mouth. He never did light it; it’s too soggy now from his own spit to be enjoyable anymore.

“The last of the rations.”

“We need more, then? What is it tonight?”

Yixing nods. “Bell peppers and beef. And we’ll get more next stop. I recognize this hire that Sehun’s talking to, he’s from the Herschel 36 planetary system and so are his normal targets. If we finish confirmations tonight, we can hyper-sleep as the ship flies out to the Lagoon Nebula. We won’t be hungry if we’re asleep. It’s a straight shot from here to there.”

Jongin hums in agreement to the idea. He much prefers sleeping to being hungry any day. As he looks over Yixing’s shoulder at their meal, he laughs in disbelief.

“There’s no beef in that, I hope you know.”

Yixing grins and continues to stir the peppers. “Just pretend. I used the same seasonings, but it’s a little hard to make anything with what we’ve got left.”

The food continues to simmer until Yixing deems it done. After his first bite, Jongin decides that peppers are only tasty if they are paired with meat. The look on Sehun and Yixing’s face has them thinking the same thing. Between bites, Jongin inquiries about their next job. Sehun rolls his eyes, leaning his head onto his propped-up arm. He moves the last of his meal around on his plate without enthusiasm.

“It was Jongdae again.”

“The Eldoran?”

Sehun grunts at Yixing’s question. “He’s paying for another hit on a rival tribe’s son. Only one target this time- Eldoran as well.” Sehun takes a drink of water before continuing as Jongin and Yixing wait for more debriefing of the next hire. “I think the son’s name was Kyungsoo? I have it written down somewhere… but Jongdae said that we should get the job done within the month as Kyungsoo’s marriage and coronation into the Head of the tribe would occur soon. The date is tentative but approaching.”

They have no problem taking on such an easy job. Jongdae always paid in full the moment the job is done. He also never complained if something came up and the kill had to be pushed back a day or two. By this point, Jongin is sure they all consider Jongdae a friend more than a customer (not really, but the sentiment is there).

“Mind if we go shopping first? Rations are low,” Yixing says as he gestures back at the empty ration containers with his head.

“I don’t care,” Jongin hums, closing his eyes as he shovels another bite of food into his mouth.

“We’ll have to go in hyper-sleep before we get there too.”

“As long as I don’t get the one with the ripped headrest,” Sehun grumbles. His mood is darkened from the lousy meal and Jongin relates to him at a spiritual level.

All three finish their meal in silence before half-heartedly cleaning up. Sehun rinses the dishes without much soap and lays them in a rack to worry about later. Now is the time to sleep, not clean.

Jongin leads them to the hyper-sleep chambers on the bottom level of the ship. The same song from before is stuck in his head. This time, it comes out in a whistling tune as he presses his thumb in to the scanner to open up the sleeping bay. It is less dusty than the med bay- they certainly put it to better use. Yixing takes the role of the eldest and checks their IDs into the database. Their boss would know they were going to hyper sleep and not just taking no jobs. Not doing the dirty work meant not breathing when _he _found out.

Sehun rushes past Yixing and Jongin to claim the most comfortable chamber. He sinks down into the cushions once the lid is opened and closes his eyes. Even if they were attacked right this moment, Sehun wouldn’t move from his spot. Jongin lets out a breathy laugh at the sight of Sehun ready to sleep. While they each could organize the sleep cycle by themselves in their own chambers, it saves stress when one of them would set it for all.

The two left standing play rock paper scissors without a word passing between them. Yixing grumbles when he loses, but Jongin lets out a little whoop. Taking pity on Yixing, Jongin leaves the next best sleep chamber for him and takes one of the others. He pushes up on the glass shielding covered in star and kitten stickers. It makes being in a claustrophobic chamber a bit more bearable. After stretching his legs and shoulders, Jongin climbs in. Jongin spares one last look at Yixing creating the flight path to Jongdae’s nearest nebula station.

“Masks on,” Yixing commands. Jongin mirrors Sehun strapping the breathing mask onto his face. A suction seal forms around his mouth and cool oxygen fills the mask. He feels the automatic straps coming up to secure his body in place. With one last check that Sehun and Jongin were secure, Yixing begins to settle into his own chamber. He would fall asleep only a minute after Sehun and Jongin do.

A soothing automatic voice comes on. Gel-like liquid fills the chamber from the bottom up and Jongin grimaces at the feeling. A sweet-smelling gas fills the mask to put him to sleep before he fell to true hyper-sleep. _“Drop in three… two… one.”_

Jongin falls to the blackness.

He is the first to wake up.

Out of the port window, Jongin can see the edges of the beautiful nebula instead of the usual blackness. The straps pull back, the mask disengages, and Jongin pushes the glass back so he can breathe. His hair is still damp from the preservation gel, but everything else is dry.

Yixing and Sehun continued their own sleep; they usually took longer to recover from the transition between hyper-sleep and awake. Jongin checks on the monitor. They had begun the transition from hyper-sleep to awake fourteen hours ago. His two shipmates still had around five hours to awaken before he had to worry.

Jongin didn’t have the heart to force awaken them. He could handle getting through customs on his own. It wouldn’t be the first time, and certainly won’t be the last.

Jongin kicks his legs over the edge of his chamber and takes a first careful step. When he’s sure that his legs won’t give out, Jongin shuffles through the ship. He groans as he takes the stairs one by one at a slow pace. His body is protesting at the physical activity so soon after coming out of the chamber. Lucky for him, the bridge isn’t far. Jongin blinks against the harsh light before sitting in the captain’s chair.

The large window out front gives Jongin a clear view to the transport check in station where they could be escorted to the planet’s surface. Their ship is already primed for entry from autopilot. He taps a few short commands into the ship’s controls and enters the que.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

“Name and statement of visiting.”

“Kim Kai. Transport of level two mining goods.”

“Cargo quantity? Crew number?”

“Seven _trak-_units. Twenty-four members.”

“Any Vilos on board?”

“Negative.”

Jongin picks at his ear as he runs through the practiced script. He sees the green light of the exterior scanner as it passes by the window. Jongin looks down at the faded numbers on a piece of paper taped to the chair, prepping for the next question.

“Ship ID number?”

He squints to make out the handwriting. “Seven-Two-R-C-A-Nine-Zero-Zero-K.”

“Proceed to nearest escort.”

Jongin flops back onto the plush bed filling his hotel room. Even if he stretches his arms out, he can’t touch the sides. The holo-screen takes up half of the wall in front of the bed, with a floor to ceiling window and sliding door on the far wall. Everything in Eldor is too big, too fancy, too materialistic.

Jongin hates it.

Outside his window is a thousand-foot waterfall that overlooks the metal buildings of the lower class settlements of Eldor. Stretching against the horizon are swirls of nature- veins that the city thrived off of. If he steps out onto his balcony, he could leap to the pool of calmed water right before the water flings itself off. Maybe he would land in a lake at the bottom, perhaps an industrial fortress. He may never know.

A knock on his front door prompts Jongin to groan and lie in bed contemplating feigning sleep. Yixing, no doubt it is him from the pattern of knocks, raps his knuckles a second time. Jongin shuffles to open it and tries to hide the mess he’s already made of clothes and guns hidden in bags.

“Get Sehun. We’ll talk now,” Yixing commands with a no-nonsense voice. He never has been the type to wait around for something to happen.

Once the trio is complete, Yixing double checks the locks on Jongin’s door. He does a quick sweep of the bathroom, moving onto the bedroom.

“Any bugs? Cameras?”

“Nope. Eldor really is trusting with their citizens.”

“Well then, to start, based on the information that Jongdae provided, Kyungsoo lives on the outskirts of the city, with his father and mother.”

“Down below?”

“No, still up on this higher level, but in a fancy community with extra security and everything. It looks miserable to live in,” Sehun says with a laugh. “That’s what I got unless we want to call Jongdae for clarification or more details. Yixing? Plan of attack?”

Yixing thinks for a moment, formulating the best steps to take in his head. “First thing first, we have to scope out this community where Kyungsoo lives, and if we can’t even get in, figure out Plan B through Z. Location is key. The ship’s in loading dock… and we still need rations.”

“Rock paper scissors?” Jongin asks. “Loser goes grocery shopping. Winners get to search the area.”

All three put out a fist without complaint. Jongin starts by throwing scissors. But he groans in defeat when both Yixing and Sehun throw rock on their first turn. Jongin kicks his feet like a little kid throwing a tantrum against the edge of the mattress. Sehun tackles him in a bear hug, knocking him down onto the bed as if that is going to make him feel better.

Grocery shopping it is.

Jongin leaves before Sehun and Yixing. He feels the heavy wad of Eldoran cash in his front pocket and wonders how many fried chicken ration sets he can get without Yixing getting mad. Probably not many. Jongin steps out of the hotel and takes a breath of the fresh air circulating the city’s biodome.

He wanders the streets with no urgency while trying to find a grocery store. After almost giving up on the winding roads with no rations store in sight, Jongin sighs in relief as he found the street filled with travelling supplies. One store is solely for space suits, another a hardware store. And finally, a rations store.

The bell jingles as Jongin enters. It’s empty, only him and the Eldoran cashier in the entire store. He gives a polite smile before walking through the aisles with a store basket in hand. The aisles are filled to the brim with food vouchers and Jongin feels his mouth already watering at the thought of the food they guarantee.

Jongin tries to pick some of everything so their taste buds wouldn’t get bored this upcoming year. He starts with the drinks section. While the ship recycled water in what is an unlimited supply, water gets boring fast.

The shelf is lined with different vouchers: juice powder, milk powders, sodas, teas, coffees, and even some alcohols. Jongin adds in cranberry juice and Eldor’s pinsella juice cards into the basket. The milk and soda he skips by in favor of loading up on coffees. Last minute, Jongin does throw in a few for strawberry milk powder. Alcohol, well, Sehun knew how to get the real stuff without needing to make it from a dry mix.

He moves onto the next section of meats when the bell chimes. Jongin sneaks a glance at the new customer that entered, but only catches a glimpse of a hood and sparkling blue eyes. Another Eldoran. Jongin focuses his concentration back on the price of steak versus other cuts of beef. He spots the chicken best for frying and puts more vouchers into the basket than he probably should. But what Yixing and Sehun didn’t know won’t kill them.

“Hey.”

Jongin keeps his attention focused on the meats. He pulls the card for pork intestines and plops it in.

“Hey!”

Jongin raises an eyebrow as he stares at the newcomer. His face is distinctly Eldoran- pale, black hair, dusting of blue scales like freckles against his cheeks. Unlike the others, however, his eyes appear to take up half his face. And all of it is hidden under a blue raincoat. When he doesn’t say anymore, Jongin stands to his full height.

“What’d you want?”

The Eldoran seems taken aback by Jongin’s height towering over him. He stumbles over his tongue for the question. “Um… I… how do you buy stuff here?”

Jongin’s face screws up in confusion. “Why’re you here if you don’t know how to buy shit?” He doesn’t have an answer for that, instead relying on shrugging his shoulders. The Eldoran’s arms wraps around his own body to make himself appear smaller. “You running away or something? Planning to start an expedition team? Errand boy for NASA-X?”

“First one…” the Eldoran mumbles. Jongin feels surprised that he actually answered with the most shocking of ideas. He takes pity on the nervous Eldoran and waves a hand for him to follow. They end up in the back of the store where the cashier can’t see them and Jongin leans against a stack of candy ration cards.

“Nothing in this store is actual food. It would take up too much space in a store this size. Everything’s about convenience. Instead, you pick these little vouchers for each ration kit. After picking what you want, go to the cashier. She’ll count up how many you’ve got of each to send in an order to a separate warehouse where the food is. You can pick them up whenever usually within 24 hours and take them to your ship,” Jongin explains.

The Eldoran nods as if he followed the explanation, but his face is still lost. Jongin sighs and has him follow instead.

“See, this is all for fruits. I want mangoes, so I’ll pick up a voucher for them.” Jongin did so as he explains the process. “If I absolutely love mangoes and know I’ll go through all of them by the next time I stop for rations, I’ll take two. Each voucher is one box of mangoes, or noodles, or whatever.”

“Are rations dried?”

“What? Of course they are. You rehydrate them in a steam lock or with water,” Jongin says. “You really are just… running away, aren’t you? No research, no nothing.” The Eldoran nods a second time. “How were you planning on getting out of here?”

“My father has a ship.”

“And that means your father has a tracker for the ship. No one has a ship without a system to know where it is at all times. You wouldn’t have gotten farther than the first transport checkpoint.”

His eyes widen as if he hadn’t thought of that fact. Jongin feels glad he stopped this little one before he probably made one of the worst decisions of his life. The human claps the Eldoran on the shoulder and continues shopping for his own supply. He waves his hand for the Eldoran to keep him company.

“when were you thinking of running away?”

“Tonight…” the Eldoran trails off. “Something’s happening tonight that I can’t miss, but maybe I could escape after.”

Jongin hums to show he’s listening. This Eldoran must have had a pretty rough life to be running away so suddenly. And he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on tonight for him. “Y’know, you haven’t even told me your name. I’m Kai.”

“D.O.”

“Sounds fake, but okay,” Jongin laughs.

“Kai isn’t a common name either.”

“It is on Earth.” He snags a voucher for Samba mushrooms and tosses it in. Even with just paper cards, the basket is getting heavy with the sheer number of them. Three guys in their early twenties living together is like feeding an army of a thousand. “Age?”

“Twenty-six.”

“Ah, you’re older than me then,” Jongin fake pouts and earns a laugh from D.O. Even if he hated the planet, the citizens living on it weren’t so bad. “Why the hood? I’m sure your face isn’t that bad.”

“I don’t want people to recognize me.”

“Reason for running away?”

D.O. stills. He looks conflicted on answering Jongin but gives in anyways. “Long story short, my dad is forcing me to marry someone I don’t want to so I can take over the family business with extra business ties.”

They don’t speak immediately after that. Jongin finishes shopping and checks out with the bored cashier. She scans the vouchers and gives Jongin an access code to the warehouse. Meanwhile, Jongin hands her his identification card to pay. He winces at the price. That amount of money is at least two jobs worth of salary that he just blew on their food for the year.

As they leave the ration store, Jongin turns away from D.O. before pausing. Spur of the moment, he invites the Eldoran to join him while getting the rations. It would give him longer to talk to this mysterious D.O. He is drawn to the blue scales and wide eyes. They feel familiar in a way Jongin can’t put his finger on.

D.O. agrees and they walk the city streets. Jongin’s feet are aching with how far the warehouse is from the store. Hopefully, they have city-limit ships that he could rent to run back to their own ship parked at Jongdae’s garage.

A guard is stationed by the entrance to the warehouse with a pistol in hand. Jongin catches her straightening up into a correct stance as they approach.

“Name?”

“Kim Kai.”

The guard’s glass helmet covers lights up. She scans for the name and nods when she finds it.

“Please type your given code.”

She holds out a keypad in her hand and Jongin fumbles for the piece of scratch paper where he wrote down the numbers. After typing them in, the keypad chirps with a bright tone. With a swift motion, the guard steps aside and swings the door open at once. Jongin takes D.O. by the hand when he freezes in place at the sight of the interior. It’s larger than any Jongin has ever seen by a long way.

Jongin wanders with D.O. in tow until they reach the retrieval desk hidden back behind shelves of storage. He checks in and the receptionist nods as the order is in their computer. The two are ushered to sit in the waiting chairs as the order is completed. The receptionist tells them it will only take a moment, but Jongin knows the size of the order is large enough to have them wait more than a few moments.

As D.O. drops himself into the chair, Jongin wanders around to find a place where he could buy some snacks to eat now. The warehouses always had a little area for people to buy food and not rations- much like the little grocery stores on the corners of the streets. Once he finds it, Jongin scans his ID to buy two bottles of lemonade and a bag of gummies.

“How are we getting it back to your ship?” D.O. asks when he comes back. In the chair, his legs don’t reach the ground and he is left swinging them in place. Jongin still can’t believe that this naïve of an Eldoran had been trying to run away on his own. He tosses one bottle of lemonade to D.O.

“They have rental transport ships. The ones that are legal in the city and fly right above the buildings,” Jongin supplies as D.O. looks lost. “I asked for them to load one up and then we don’t have to carry a shit ton of boxes through the city.”

“I see…”

Jongin cracks open the seal on his bottle and takes a long drink. It’s perfectly sour against his tongue. He keeps sipping at his lemonade while D.O. stares at the ground. Right as he is about to open the gummies, the man at the desk tells them their order is ready and loaded for transport. Jongin thanks him and motions for D.O. to follow again. The loading dock isn’t far away and Jongin catches sight of the bright red transport ship. He grins.

The shop mechanic hands Jongin the keys to the ship with the reminder that the ship had to be returned by sunset. He gives a thumbs up and hops into the open pilot’s seat. His hands run over the smooth leather of the control sticks.

The human notices D.O. staying on the ground near the passenger’s side. “Hop in already! You heard the man, we don’t have all day!” Jongin teases. D.O. nods. He doesn’t hop in as much as he crawls like a nervous baby up the metal and into his seat. D.O. sits with his hands gripping the unopened bottle of lemonade to the point his knuckles were turning white.

Jongin eases the ship into the air and flies it out the open hatch. He keeps one eye on D.O. as he gets the ship into the correct area for flight over the city. The Eldoran has moved his hands from the bottle to his harness; his eyes are tightly shut. Jongin has to stifle a laugh at how nervous he is over flying- through the city only, nonetheless.

Out in the air lane, Jongin relaxes back into his seat. The wind whips his hair back and forth and he smiles as it cools his face. Being outside like this during the day is something he isn’t used to. It’s a nice change of pace. Jongin sneaks a glance at D.O. His hood has flown off and Jongin can see just how black his hair really is. He even notices the edges of a tattoo on the back of his neck. D.O.’s more of a rebel than he initially thought. Especially since it is illegal for Eldoran’s to have any sort of body modification.

“You having fun yet?”

D.O. turns towards Jongin and gives a nod. The beginnings of a smile are finally creeping onto his face as Jongin punches the accelerator. The Eldoran’s hands loosen up on his seatbelt as he gets used to riding the ship. But it ends soon enough and Jongin is maneuvering into a parking spot near their ship in Jongdae’s garage.

D.O.’s expression crinkles at the messy space. After peering around at all of the doors in the garage, D.O. relaxes some. “Do you need any help unloading, Kai?”

“Grab the fruit boxes, would you?” Jongin asks as he grabs a crate of water flavorings in one hand, the unopened bottle of lemonade in the other so D.O. doesn’t have to worry about not drinking it. It is more of a human taste, after all.

D.O. takes the fruit box closest to him and trudges up the ramp of Jongin’s ship. Jongin follows. His eyes wander the length of the Eldoran’s body as he walks behind. And they end at the revealed tattoo on his neck.

“Oh fuck. Fuck!”

Jongin drops the box he’s holding. The bottle something crashes against the floor; lemonade splashes and glass shatters everywhere. D.O. startles, whipping around to ask what the matter is. As the Eldoran approaches, Jongin flinches back.

“What’s wrong? Is it… did I do something?”

“Your tattoo.” Jongin gestures vaguely to his neck. D.O.’s eyes widen almost comically as he slaps a hand over the tattoo.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” D.O. hisses to himself. His eyes frantically search the ground, worry radiating from his body’s stance.

“That’s a forget-me-not, isn’t it? With wilted leaves. Three stalks, each with three leaves.” D.O. stares back at him. His own box ends up on the floor next to Jongin’s with a comically loud bang. The echo bounces from the cement walls of the garage. “Am I wrong, D.O.?”

“We’re soulmates?”

Jongin remembers his mother telling him the same thing over his tattoo. “I suppose so.”

“And what do we do now?” D.O.’s breath is light as if he’s trying too hard to breathe and can’t find any air.

“I don’t want to kiss you yet, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Jongin jokes. D.O. relaxes in his place. “But would you care for a drink? That seems like a good place to start.”

“I would love to but…” D.O. trails off, looking up at the clock hung on the wall, “I have a previous engagement. Tonight, if you would want to come with.”

“Engagement like meeting or engagement like getting married to that person you don’t want to,” Jongin asks with a chuckle. He stops laughing when he sees the displeasure on D.O.’s face. It’s both, apparently. That doesn’t sit well with Jongin, but he figures it can’t be helped. They did just meet today. Besides, if D.O. is planning on running away, this marriage must not have been his idea either.

They share few words as the rest of the rations are loaded onto Jongin’s ship. He loads the ration boxes into the cargo hull while D.O. takes to mopping up the lemonade and glass. Jongin flies the rental ship back to the warehouse with the Eldoran in the front seat. D.O. isn’t as tense on the ride home- a win to Jongin. The ship is returned just as easily as it was given to them.

D.O. pauses at the exit. He opens his mouth as though he wanted to say something, but Jongin beats him to it.

“I have to go.”

D.O.’s grip on the door frame tightens. But Jongin sees the bitterness in D.O.’s stance. He pulls a worn notebook out of his jacket pocket and tosses it and a pen to D.O. “Write the address of tonight. I assume it’s a black-tie sort of thing?” Jongin gives an awkward half-smile, and it eases the tension out of D.O.

“It is. Come alone…” The notebook is back in Jongin’s hands. D.O. passes by him, pausing only to give a small peck on his soulmate’s cheek. “…and I’ll leave with you.”

“Change of plans, I’m going out tonight,” Jongin announces the moment he steps into the room occupied with Yixing and Sehun. He freezes in his tracks when he notices the suits Sehun and Yixing are donning. The latter is fixing his hair so his bangs would hang over his forehead with practiced ease. A suit Jongin recognizes as his is lying out on the bed next to Sehun.

The youngest stands up and makes sure the guns strapped to his body weren’t visible. “Change of plans, we’re killing this kid tonight.”

“What? Wait, but- but something came up for me and…” Jongin stammers, trying to find a viable excuse other than the truth.

“Jongdae gave us rush orders. He just found out tonight and told us the moment he knew the new info. You’ll get paid the extra for a speed job, don’t worry.”

Yixing’s words didn’t comfort Jongin. His partners didn’t seem to understand that he didn’t care if they had to kill this Kyungsoo now, it just couldn’t be tonight. D.O. would be waiting and he wouldn’t leave him there to suffer through his own wedding.

The two assassins didn’t budge. Jongin relents, grabbing the suit with a huff and throwing it on in the corner of the room. As Sehun and Yixing’s backs are turned, he pulls the notebook out of his normal jacket and reads the address one final time to commit it to memory before tucking it away.

Delta Sector, Building 27, in Itol.

“So, where’re we going for this?” Jongin grumbles once he is as well dressed as Yixing and Sehun.

“We’re in the city of Itol now, and he said Delta sector and building number 27. Right, Xing?”

Yixing nods. Jongin’s stomach doesn’t quite drop like he expected it to. If D.O.’s at the same place as their target, it would be easy to combine his two objectives. No problem. He’d even be the knight in shining armor and keep D.O. away from the gory carnage.

“Could you be any slower?” Sehun complains as they’re walking down the street. Jongin shrugs, kicking a rock out of his way. He isn’t feeling like doing his job tonight. The more he procrastinates, the later he has to do it. But the building is in sight. Jongin knows he couldn’t turn back now. “C’mon. Remember the back entrances from Jongdae’s explanation. No guests are allowed without invitation.”

The initial plan is to pass by the entrance and circle around back where no guards were stationed. There is only one blind spot and they would make the best of it. The plan had been on track to work fine until D.O. spots Jongin from where he is greeting guests.

“Kai! You made it!”

He waves them up to his spot. Yixing pinches Jongin on the back none too gently.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jongin says. “Oh! I know you said to come alone, but I couldn’t trust these two with keeping water wet. D.O., this is Hunnie and Lay.”

The Eldoran greets the two with warmth. Sehun doesn’t so much as give a smile in return. But Yixing bows in a traditional greeting. Jongin notices how the first few drops of rain are beginning to fall form the sky. By this evening, it surely will turn into a full-blown thunderstorm. Jongin feels the excitement at his favorite weather bubble up. In his mind, rain equals happiness. It always has.

“When Kai first mentioned you and for us to be tagging along, I didn’t realize this was quite the extravagant affair.”

D.O. blushes at Yixing pointing out the over the top wedding. “Neither did I. Did Kai tell you anything about… this?”

“Nothing whatsoever,” Sehun adds.

“Just go ahead and walk in. I pointed you out to the guards before I came over, they’ll let you pass.” D.O. shoots them a disarming smile.

Jongin is about to respond before Sehun butts in. “We really must get going in. I see you have other guests waiting.”

The trio walks into the reception hall and finds seats near the back. Jongin is too busy admiring the traditional Eldoran décor to notice Sehun whispering to Yixing. It isn’t until the latter hits him on the shoulder does he pay attention.

“What?” he hisses, rubbing at his injured shoulder.

“That’s Kyungsoo.”

Jongin’s blood runs cold. “Well, we can’t kill him. Tell Jongdae sorry, but we can’t.”

“Why, pray tell, can we not kill him?” Yixing snaps. Jongin flinches at the tone of anger seeping through the usually cheerful man. “You want to fuck him that bad you have to mess up a job?”

Jongin gives them silence in return. Sehun snorts, his eyes cold as he sneers at Jongin’s crestfallen face.

“My god, you fucking fell in love with our biggest target yet. And in one day- one fucking day!”

He knows he couldn’t tell his friends- hell, his brothers- that he is soulmates with the Eldoran. They don’t even know that his own tattoo had any meaning other than being pretty. Weaknesses like love and flowers and_ soulmates_ had no place in an assassin’s life. Jongin opens his mouth to say something, anything, but the doors swing shut indicating the start of the ceremony. Sehun adjusts his suitcoat before excusing himself. He gives the signal that he isn’t just going to the restroom.

Yixing follows in forty seconds exactly.

Jongin is left alone in the seats as his partners get into position. They don’t care if Jongin has personal attachments to Kyungsoo or not. This is an assignment and it would be complete before the night’s end. Jongin knows there’s no stopping them; Sehun and Yixing could handle the hit without his help if he stays frozen in place.

Music begins to play from the front of the wedding hall. Jongin spares a glance over his shoulder to see D.O.- no, Kyungsoo- entering the hall with his eyes downcast. He remembers Kyungsoo mentioning leaving together, but certainly he has no clue what to expect the Eldoran’s plan to be.

But Jongin does know Yixing and Sehun’s plan.

Once Kyungsoo reaches the alter, Jongin sneaks around the people in the aisle and out the side door. The building’s layout is ingrained in his mind. Sehun would be up on the left side balcony and Yixing below him in case the execution went wrong. His spot is supposed to be opposite of Sehun before he just abandoned his duty altogether. He continues up the winding staircase.

Sehun is kneeling in his position. A rifle rests between his shoulder and the balcony’s railing. Nothing but the tip of its barrel can be seen below. Jongin knows the scope is aiming for Kyungsoo’s head. Sehun flickers his eyes to Jongin standing behind him before readjusting his position.

“He will die tonight. I don’t care if he’s your lover boy or not or whatever the fuck you think he is to you.”

“That’s fine.”

At this, Sehun does pull his head back and faces Jongin dead on. He isn’t amused. “Are you trying reverse psychology? Cause it won’t work.”

Jongin shakes his head. “No. He will die and if anyone’s going to do it, it will be me. Don’t kill him at this wedding.”

“But-”

“It’ll be done by midnight. Just, trust me,” Jongin pleads. “And this might be my last mission.”

Sehun sighs. Jongin assumes they’ll talk about it more later, but he relents. Sehun may be younger, but he’s always had a soft spot for Jongin and his soft nature. Maybe this will be the death of him. “If you fuck this up and Kyungsoo’s still breathing by tomorrow, I swear, me and Yixing are going to shove you out the air lock.”

“He won’t be.”

The wedding proceeds. Kyungsoo is married.

And Jongin’s guilt builds in his chest.

Jongin waits around the corner of the entrance for guests to come into the party hall for Kyungsoo. He spots the blue scaled face of his soulmate amongst the other blue with ease. It’s a shade much prettier than the rest. Kyungsoo waves him over with two fingers after making only brief eye contact. The assassin follows until they are back outside under the pouring rain.

“I need to go.”

Jongin accepts this from Kyungsoo. Maybe if he leaves, then he could lie to Sehun and Yixing that the Eldoran is dead. “Sorry for keeping you then. Don’t feel tied to me.”

Kyungsoo shakes his head and pulls Jongin for a kiss. His hands grasp at the lapels of Jongin’s’ suit. “I need to go with you. Somewhere, anywhere. Just take me and I’ll follow. It’s between the ceremony and reception- now’s the only time everyone’s distracted enough.”

The hotel. It’s the only place Jongin knows he can use for his disposal. He leads them back to his room, avoiding the flashing lights of paparazzi flooding the streets after hearing that the famed Eldoran has abandoned his own wedding reception. Jongin sneaks them up to his room. The balcony door opens and Jongin leans halfway out, ignoring the dread of looking at the waterfall below.

His eyes fall to the stars dotting the sky.

Kyungsoo comes up behind him. He rests his forehead against Jongin’s back. As Jongin continues to stare out into nothing, Kyungsoo works to remove the jacket fitting Jongin’s body. Little kisses are dotted across his back as Kyungsoo takes off his own until they both are only in their undershirts and pants. It’s nothing sexual, nothing leading to messed sheets and sore hips in the morning.

Kyungsoo peers out the window around Jongin. “It looks so calm from up here.” The Eldoran tightens his arms around Jongin’s middle.

“I haven’t told you the truth in anything.”

“Neither have I.” Kyungsoo shakes his head against Jongin’s back. “We met each other this morning. I don’t know how much room for truth we would’ve had.”

“Do you know why I came here? To Eldor?”

The Eldoran pulls back and looks Jongin in the eyes. Jongin sees nothing but trust. And that kills him on the inside. “Does it matter?”

“I was supposed to kill you,” Jongin begins. Kyungsoo doesn’t pull away. “I’m a hired assassin by Jongdae. Yixing and Sehun- Hunnie and Lay- are my partners. Did you know your life only costs twenty-five thousand sol? An extra ten for a rush order. I could buy a small spaceship for that price. Or an apartment downtown in Vego, or…”

“Stop!”

Jongin flinches at Kyungsoo’s short tone.

“So, if you were supposed to kill me, and I’m still here, that means something right? I don’t care about your past or what you had to do, because we’re together now.” He takes in a breath of air and gazes out the window to find where Jongin is looking. “And we can still run away.”

“No, we can’t.”

“What do you mean? It’d be so easy!”

Jongin faces Kyungsoo. He pulls the collar of his shirt down until it reveals his chest. On the breast over his heart is a scar and a raised square underneath. “Do you really think Yixing and Sehun and me wanted to become what we are today? No one wants to do the dirty jobs. And so, the man upstairs finds poor little orphan kids with no one to tuck them in at night and gives them a choice. Death or do _their_ bidding. I went with the last option. As did Yixing and Sehun.”

Kyungsoo runs his fingers over the scar. Jongin reaches and grabs Kyungsoo’s fingers to hold them against his chest. His heart is beating too quickly.

“What is it?”

“A tracker. I go somewhere _they_ don’t like, I die. I fuck up a job royally, I die. I try to take it out, I die. I hope you get the point.”

It’s Kyungsoo’s turn to stare out the window with Jongin behind him. The human is aching for a cigarette right now. Anything to distract him from the problem at hand.

“In every ending, you die.”

“Pretty much.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t ask any more questions. Jongin doesn’t give any more answers. He contemplates all the possibilities laid to on the table before them. The human knows he could push Kyungsoo so easily out this window. Keep going on with his life and job and never go anywhere in life. He’s already not going to heaven, might as well go to hell real slow then. Maybe it’ll all be better in the morning after Kyungsoo dies, maybe it won’t.

“Have you ever heard the story of Romeo and Juliet?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“It’s an old Earth legend, been around for centuries even before we came to the stars. It’s about two lovers. They meet and fall in love only to find their end in death after three days. Quite tragic- I don’t know how people could like it but everyone always said how beautiful it was.”

Kyungsoo is silent. Jongin asks the question plaguing his mind with guilt. His eyes go blank as he speaks, his mouth fills with the feeling of stuffed cotton. Jongin’s voice is not his own.

“If I jump right now, would you follow?”

“Down the waterfall?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll hit the rocks before the water at the bottom.”

“Better than drowning.”

“I suppose so.”

Jongin hums. The water flings itself from the pool straight to the edge of the world. No worries, no hesitation, no worrying over doing the right thing. On the edge, only flowers litter the precipice. Could a being ever be as fearless as the water, as the flowers stretching their lives over the edge?

There would be nowhere to go but down.

There would be nothing to do but drown.

“I wouldn’t leave you to jump on your own,” Kyungsoo says after a beat.

Jongin holds his hand out to Kyungsoo. The Eldoran takes it easily in his own and kisses the calloused knuckles. Maybe halfway down, Jongin would think how he never meant to jump at all- that this is spur of the moment.

But Jongin did make a promise to Sehun, after all.

Kyungsoo crawls out to the ledge first. Jongin follows him out. From this height, the water does look calm at the bottom if the water tumbling off is ignored; the rocks are unable to be seen in the darkness. The unknown makes everything so much more bearable.

“Three.”

“Two.”

Jongin kisses Kyungsoo on the forehead. “One.”

Perhaps, Jongin thinks as the wind rushes past his ears, he and Kyungsoo are as beautiful as that fearless flower.

* * *

“And for each day, your highness, how long would you like me to instruct your son?”

The King pauses to mull over the question. Kyungsoo had been allowed to speak up with any questions he may have. It is quite the surprise that Kyungsoo had been allowed to speak at all in the presence of royalty; both the King and Queen are perched on their thrones while Kyungsoo stands at their feet. The King shifts with care and the rustling of his robes is the only noise in the still air. “You specialize in grammar and writing, no?”

Kyungsoo nods in confirmation. His eyes remain locked on the floor. “I also have some experience in vocal training, but that is not what I have focused in before.”

“Four to five hours then. Focus on Classical Chinese literature. And military memoirs if you have the expertise.”

“What about poetry or songwriting? Those have been popular subjects lately,” Kyungsoo inquires. He prays the King doesn’t see this question as backtalk. Yes, those subjects have been gaining popularity, but they also are Kyungsoo’s favorite. The art form and flowing words turns to birds soaring from the tongue. They also are the only way that Kyungsoo’s father allows him to express emotions.

“Music and art have no place in a future king’s training. Keep him on the path of diligent studies. I trust you to do so. Jongin is my eldest heir, after all, and the most promising.”

Kyungsoo nods again. That doesn’t come as much of a shock that the King would prohibit expression. Art is a common_ yangban’s_ specialty. His disappointment is kept well hidden. He excuses himself from the royal chambers back to the room he has been offered for the week. Out of all of the candidates to become the eldest heir’s instructor, only two will be chosen. For the sake of retaining his family’s status of _yangban_, Kyungsoo prays he will be one of the chosen.

His family has been stuck within a rough patch since before his birth. While his father is also a successful _yangban _in his prime, his life has given way to vices and the impure. Even his mother has hidden much of the unclean deeds from Kyungsoo until he found out himself. Their money and status are both gambled away the moment they reach greedy hands - the snake of alcohol biting his father’s tongue most nights.

While he had passed the civil service exam and excelled proficiently in language, Kyungsoo is still worried it would not be enough. Perhaps the King is wanting more of a confident or experienced instructor for his son. But this position could restore all that had been lost. Kyungsoo knows it rests on his shoulders. His only wish is that the short hearing from the King had proved his worth.

Kyungsoo is escorted back to his guest chambers by a friendly servant by the name of Minseok. His demeanor reminds Kyungsoo of a cat, soft and sweet but poised to become harsh at the slightest indication of trouble. Exactly the type of person to be trusted to serve the Prince.

“The King will speak with you and a few of the other _yangban_ in the morning.”

Kyungsoo pauses from emptying his bag onto the bedside desk to process the words. “A secondary hearing? Is that normal?”

Minseok tries to hold back the faintest of smiles. “It means he was quite impressed by your repertoire. And the fact that you are so young adds points as you’ll be able to serve the royal family for longer.”

This puts a rush of excitement in Kyungsoo’s veins. Perhaps he does stand a chance getting this job. It appears as though this servant believes the same. Kyungsoo finishes placing his few possessions within the desk for his stay. Minseok remains by the door until he finishes and gestures for the bathing room down the hall.

Kyungsoo chooses a set of pajamas from the clothes he has access to in the room’s armoire. Minseok leads the way into the large chamber filled with heated water and shelves of salts and soaks. No one else is occupying the room; Kyungsoo prefers this over bathing in the presence of multiple other old _yangban_. He strips down to bare skin before easing into the water. Its heat laps at his tired skin and Kyungsoo can’t help the content smile spreading across his face.

He jumps when he feels Minseok untying his hair from its topknot. Kyungsoo is about to insist that he can bathe himself perfectly fine until Minseok stops him with a hand.

“It’s my job. Let me treat the future scholar. At least for one night, so you can feel special,” Minseok teases. His fingers untangle the fairy knots from Kyungsoo’s hair as he speaks. By no means does Kyungsoo think he means it with spite or in pity. It is a welcomed gesture.

Kyungsoo leans his head back into the water when Minseok commands him to. His hair is heavy and wet by the time he raises back up. The servant begins to lather a sweet-smelling soap into his black hair. The few pieces that escape from his grasp spread in the water like black ink.

“Close your eyes. I don’t want to get water in them,” Minseok says. Kyungsoo follows the order. A few buckets of water are methodically poured over his hair to rinse the soap out. The process is repeated with an oily lather that leaves Kyungsoo’s hair silky to the touch.

“Thank you for this,” Kyungsoo whispers under his breath. It has been a while since he’s been taken care of by anyone. But Minseok still catches it. A smile that reminds Kyungsoo of his own mother fills his face.

“It’s no problem. You’re much more pleasant to deal with than any of the other royals in the castle. They appear all friendly and polite until they don’t have to impress you anymore. Perhaps I could be your personal servant when you become tutor.” Minseok nudges Kyungsoo on the shoulder.

Kyungsoo lets out an airy laugh at the gesture. His face stones for a moment. “Even the crown prince? If that’s so, I won’t be looking forward to dealing with that, I suppose.”

Minseok hurries to shake his head. “Out of all of them, Prince Jongin is the most humble and down to earth. He’ll make a good student, I believe. A bit absentminded, a bit naïve, but it’s endearing. Much unlike the King, if you forgive my speaking badly of his Highness.”

Kyungsoo hides a snort behind his hand. Laughter fills the bathing room as Kyungsoo and Minseok fill the air with their unbridled thoughts. Kyungsoo won’t share Minseok’s complaints of the family he serves, and Minseok won’t share the preconceived notions Kyungsoo has. It’s the perfect type of easy companionship Kyungsoo has craved his whole life.

The servant gathers all of Kyungsoo’s hair in his hands again once all the soaps are washed out and wrings out the excess water. He plucks a thick hair band from one of the nearby shelves and ties Kyungsoo’s hair up.

“Oh! Has that always been there?”

“Hmm?”

“This tattoo, I didn’t notice it when you first got in…”

Minseok’s words die in his mouth as his fingers trace the outline of the forget-me-not flowers. Kyungsoo cranes his head to look at Minseok with suspicious eyes.

“Yes? It has been. I’ve had it since I was born. My mother told me that the one in this life that would love and cherish me forever would have a matching one. Personally, I don’t like showing it off much.”

The servant grabs Kyungsoo’s shoulders a little too harshly and whips the scholar around in the water. Minseok leans in close, examining Kyungsoo’s eyes for any lies.

“Are you telling the truth. This isn’t a joke or a way to get closer to the royal family?”

Kyungsoo shoves Minseok’s hands off of his skin. “What are you even talking about? Of course, it’s not!” He rubs at the tattoo on his neck. “Why would you even ask that?”

“Because Prince Jongin has a matching one.”

Kyungsoo feels the blood drain from his face. All he can hear is the beating of his heart thrumming through his ears. The faint steam from the water hits his cheeks, but he can’t feel anything now. His entire body is frozen in shock.

“Oh.”

Teaching Jongin is worse than Kyungsoo could have imagined. Not because of Jongin himself, certainly not because of that, but more due to the pressure the King place don the both of them. And Jongin never wants to do his studies. It makes the situation worse when it was just the two of them, alone, in a room with no distractions or interruptions or duties to fulfill.

“Put emphasis your want to acquire a diplomatic treaty through your word choice, not punctuation,” Kyungsoo grumbles. A headache has been forming since the moment he left his bedchambers; the stress of the King observing their lesson has only made the situation worse. The King smacks Jongin on the back of his head for messing up his studies. It is not the first time such a situation has occurred.

Jongin rubs the back of his head after but does not let out any sound. His eyes are steeled to the assignment in front of him. Kyungsoo keeps his eyes trained on the same paper. It isn’t his place to speak out.

“I’m leaving. Kyungsoo, you’re dismissed for the day. Feel free to enjoy the rest of your day.”

The King, in more of a sour mood than when he arrived, storms out of the room. In no ways is he displeased at Kyungsoo’s performance, but rather his own son’s. Every week, the King makes a surprise visit to one of Jongin’s lessons and sits in to see how Kyungsoo teaches. More, it is to see how Jongin is responding to Kyungsoo’s practices. Sometimes it felt that the King likes Kyungsoo more than his own son.

Jongin slams his head on the desk in front of him. “I hate this. I hate him, I hate everything.”

“Even me?”

“Not you, Soo,” Jongin says in an instant. His head shoots up to look at Kyungsoo. “Never you.”

“I’m just your teacher, Jongin. Nothing more.” Kyungsoo knows he is teasing, but he couldn’t help it. The servants left with the King and the door locked behind them. And the windows- even they wouldn’t let a hint of suspicion in to the room. The library is barren minus their two souls. Jongin takes Kyungsoo’s hand into his and kisses at the knuckles. His other hand comes up to take the glasses off of Kyungsoo’s face.

“I feel like I’ve held your hand for a thousand years and I’ll hold it for a thousand more…”

“So, you have been practicing your poetry, I see,” Kyungsoo replies with a smirk.

Jongin lets go of Kyungsoo’s hand and pushes himself away from the table. “You are the one who told me to. I was only following a wise man’s suggestion.” A couch rests against a bare wall where none of the reference books were stacked to the ceiling. Jongin throws himself onto it with a sigh and makes grabby hands for Kyungsoo.

“We still have more work if you’re ever going to impress your father.”

Jongin snorts. “Like that will happen. When I become King, my sons will never have to go through any sort of schooling they don’t want to.”

“That’s hardly a way to go about things,” Kyungsoo quips. Jongin pouts at the rejection of his idea and motions for Kyungsoo to come closer a second time.

The tutor does so and revels in the warmth Jongin’s body offers. He wishes this could be every day. Every morning to wake up to. Every night to fall asleep to. Nothing about royalty or _yangban _or kings and promised heirs. Kyungsoo closes his eyes and focuses in on the steady thumping of his love’s heartbeat. Jongin’s soft lips run over the flower tattoo at the base of Kyungsoo’s neck. It is kept hidden at all times, only for Kyungsoo’s family to know of, as well as Minseok. And Jongin.

All the proof Kyungsoo needed that Jongin is his soulmate in this life.

Usually, Jongin would begin talking of something- anything- to fill the silence. Kyungsoo never minds, even if he does prefer silence on some days. But Jongin rarely gets the chance to speak for himself: of his ideas, his desires, his plans for the future. And so Kyungsoo understands how comfortable Jongin him must be around him to talk of his true thoughts.

Which is why the silence sets Kyungsoo on edge now.

“What are you thinking in that head of yours?” Kyungsoo askes, delivering a light flick to his lover’s forehead. Jongin stares at him with withering eyes. Yet he offers no answer. The only thing Jongin does is press his face into the back of Kyungsoo’s neck. The tutor can feel the hot breath on his skin and refrains from flinching at the odd sensation.

Kyungsoo doesn’t push Jongin. Whatever it is, is already hanging on his conscious with a heavy weight. He doesn’t want to add to that burden by trying to force him to explain. And so Kyungsoo sits in Jongin’s arms. Being a personal comfort doll like the children would carry around doesn’t seem too bad if it is for Jongin.

His eyes were drooping when Jongin begins to mutter his troubles. Kyungsoo can’t hear, nudging him to speak up. Jongin peers at him with regret and anguish and all the emotions Kyungsoo never wants to see on that beautiful face. Because seeing pain on Jongin brings pain to his own being.

“For the past month, the King’s had me already lay with consorts for heirs. His reign is ending along with his failing health and I’m in place to ascend.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t respond. His heart hurts. It feels like betrayal, but there is no reason to blame Jongin for what is happening. It’s the rulings of the land that subjected him to such attendings. And from his reaction alone, Jongin is just as disgusted as Kyungsoo himself.

Jongin takes Kyungsoo’s silence as rejection. “I didn’t- don’t- want to. But I need heirs to prepare for my reign or something like that. I hate it.”

He presses his face back down into Kyungsoo’s skin. He feels the drops of tears fall and soak into his robes.

“It’s not your fault…”

“Three of the women are already with children… from me. I was informed this morning.”

“I see.” This is the breaking point for Kyungsoo. Maybe he hoped nothing had happened yet. But Kyungsoo knows that anything he’s desiring from the past is now an impossible reality for their future. “I’m going… I need to go. You’re dismissed from your lesson.”

Kyungsoo stands abruptly from Jongin’s arms. He licks his lips. While looking for the words to say, Kyungsoo’s eyes scan the bookshelves without finding a purchase to focus on. “See you tomorrow.”

Jongin is frozen to the couch as Kyungsoo now searches through the scattered papers and bottles of ink for his own items. One of the bottles is knocked to the floor and shatters. The noise makes Kyungsoo jump. But he doesn’t stop his ministrations. The materials are stuffed into his bag and Kyungsoo slips his glasses back onto his nose.

“Have a nice evening.”

Kyungsoo makes a hasty exit. It isn’t hard for him to ignore the pleading to stay from Jongin with how filled his mind is with other concerns. The tutor wanders the silent halls to his room. The sunlight shines in through the window, but Kyungsoo wishes for rain. He loves the rain more than any light that the sun could provide.

He knows his personal attendant of the palace, Minseok, won’t be back until later that evening. Kyungsoo had given him the afternoon off to visit his parents in town. How Kyungsoo wants to follow, leave this place and cry into the shoulder of his mother. Or visit the beaches leading out into the open ocean with his elder brother.

But teaching is his job. Loving Jongin is an inconvenient byproduct of that.

After putting his materials and bags away by himself, Kyungsoo changes into a more comfortable robe. Surely, he could have dinner delivered to his room and not need to make an appearance at the evening meal. The King won’t question it considering how much he has been involved in the royals lately. But not coming to the meal will bring questions from Jongin.

Kyungsoo sighs at the thought. Jongin is the last person he wants to see at the moment, yet Jongin would be the only one to worry over the true reason of his absence. There is no way for Kyungsoo to explain his distaste of Jongin laying with other women simply for children when he could have had those nights with his lover.

It is selfish and unneeded jealously that fills Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo knew he has to explain his emotions eventually. Doing it in person will be worse than pulling thorns out of a bloody foot after walking in the forest barefoot. In short, painful. He catches sight of the half-filled ink bottle on the table and an idea pops into his head. Writing has always been easier for him than speaking his emotions aloud.

_\---_

_Bear,_

_I love you. Forever and always, but I can’t do this anymore if I result in such turmoil. My heart yearns for you and only you. I understand your position and the need the country has for your blood. And yet I am selfish and desire you for myself. Do not take this as your fault or a problem you could have prevented. Emotions are vacillating. Mine do not stray far from this claim._

_I write this in the sunlight but do not follow my lead. Read this at night where your emotions are high and cannot be seen in the darkness._

_Sincerely,_

_Me_

_\---_

_Owl,_

_I love you too. _

_I understand the problem, yet my heart still cries in the silent hours of the night. I lay with women yet all I can think of is your hand in mine. Short hair in place of long and muscles in place of softness. I cannot think of them without having bile rise in my throat. Please come to see me. Lesson or otherwise. My being does not exist without yours._

_I read this under the moonlight and the stars become my tears. I pray one day we swim above together in the ocean of black._

_Sincerely,_

_Me_

_\---_

_Bear,_

_I apologize for any turmoil I have put your heart through. I spoke to the King today and I believe he has become suspicious. To no longer draw attention, I suggest we no longer meet during the day nor should we meet in the castle. Outside of our lessons, we shall be strangers. Believe me to be selfish, but I cannot live with this dread of being discovered much longer._

_Should I propose we meet under the willow during the height of the moon’s jump, would you follow? Next third day, I will pray so. _

_Sincerely,_

_Me_

_\---_

_Owl,_

_Meeting you only for schooling has not been enough for me lately. I crave your touch and yet it is wasted on these women. Do not blame yourself but realize I cannot suffer through this anymore as well. Never would I want to put you in such a compromised position. _

_We cannot meet at night, I agree, and I have no replacement. My orders of creating heirs has become stricter. If you have plans other than letters, please share. I need to know._

_I love you._

_Sincerely,_

_Me_

_\---_

Despite all of the letters continuously back and forth, it isn’t enough. And Kyungsoo does not have any ideas that will help to avoid being caught red handed. Minseok came up empty handed as well when he pondered solutions.

Kyungsoo informs the King that he will be taking a week-long break for personal reasons. When inquired further, Kyungsoo gives the excuse that a family member is ill and needs to be taken care of at his home. He does not include the fact that he is the family member needing help; nor does he mention that he simply needs a dose of his mother’s wisdom.

He leaves before the sun breaks over the horizon in the morning. Few of palace staff are awake other than Minseok helping him to a carriage. The servant keeps biting his lip every time he glances back to the palace walls.

“Are you sure this is the way to do it?”

The teacher shakes his head, sighing into his hand. “I don’t know any other way. It hurts to stay here, and it hurts a little less to go.”

“Maybe so, but what about the Prince? Surely he will hurt after your absence too.”

Anything Kyungsoo chose to do regarding Jongin is painful. They simply cannot be together. A crown prince and a tutor, two men, a low-class yangban and royalty. The reasons working against them are numerous and overwhelming. Minseok had found their relationship out by secret and promised not to tell a soul. The next time, they might not be so lucky.

From his pocket, Kyungsoo procures a letter with his wax seal. He shoves it into Minseok’s waiting hands before the carriage door falls shut. His spirit is written into the letter and left little for Kyungsoo to travel with. He slumps down in his seat, watching the scenery change from walls and buildings to grasslands only a stone’s throw from the sea.

All the while, his mind does not stray far from his final letter to Jongin.

_Bear,_

_Did you ever visit the garden I mentioned to you of where I found the doves bathing in the morning? Did you open your heart up to me as true as it could be, or were those times you remained quiet simply filled with unspoken secrets? Afraid of what I would think?_

_Did you visit the lanterns that I wrote to you of where the flames whips against the wind yet never burns out? Did you fall to the dark alleys of the city where none of your secrets should be revealed within the defense of no man?_

_Did you visit the cities that I wrote to you of, or the temples of faraway lands on your travels? Did you feel like a child running through sands with birds crossing the sun?_

_Did I bring light to your darkness you so often seemed to fall to, or was I yet another one for you to selfishly please your desires with?_

_I ask you this not of despise or hatred, but of true wonder. I will not be returning as promised. I have committed one sin against the King and that is my lie. Should you come to visit in due time, you will find no one. But if Minseok gives you this letter as promised, and you know the answer to your heart and you come looking with no waste of time, I will still be waiting. _

_One week. I’ll float over the tired sea with or without you. Out to where I can see you again without worries or duties to fill. And maybe you’ll leave too, and the warm bed of each other’s love will be found in the blue waves._

_I love you._

_Sincerely,_

_Me_

It is the seventh day.

Kyungsoo is starting to feel his spirit wither. Being home felt nice, his heart soaring every time his brother throws him a joke, or his mother asks for help cooking. But it isn’t the same as teaching Jongin. Because while he was teaching Jongin, he learned more than he ever could have wanted about the crown prince.

No doubt it is love in his heart for Jongin and no doubt it will never fade. But Kyungsoo grows tired of waiting. He won’t have to wait for much longer, this much is Kyungsoo knows. Tonight, is his final night whether Jongin arrives or not.

He spends the day doing the things he missed the most. It isn’t going to the festivals in the market, or throwing a party, but simply cooking simple stew of rice with meat and taking cat naps when he feels tired. Giving endless hugs to his mother and teaching his niece how to sing at the top of her lungs.

When the day passes and the moon settles into the sky, Kyungsoo knows it is time. Jongin has not come; he probably never will. The request is too great. Kyungsoo is aware of this possibility but he couldn’t help the seed of hope that his lover would come.

The moon has risen almost to the peak. Its light is nothing more than a ghastly smile in the sky.

Kyungsoo enters the back shed of a local shop where his childhood friend works. They specialize in fishing, and their stock of boats is plentiful. When Chanyeol catches sight of him, he embraces the younger in a long hug. It has been years- and this is not how either wanted to meet later in life.

“Do you have the boat?” Kyungsoo asks Chanyeol. The latter nods. Not with pity or disgust, but as a simple answer.

“Loaded with nothing but stones from your garden.”

Kyungsoo looks down at his hands. They were used for teaching, for helping, for loving, and now they will bear the mark of a murderer. No matter if it is his own life, if his actions were fulfilled, there will be one less soul to wander the lonely Earth.

“Tell my mother all the good I did. And have the eulogy grand. I know it’s bad to lie, but I want to be the man my family wanted me to be that I never was.”

“I will.”

“Take care of my family, with Baekhyun. You two were the closest friends I ever had and I don’t want them hurt under the hand of my father.”

“I promise.”

“You won’t need a grave, don’t worry about finding one.”

“I won’t.”

“Soulmates aren’t born often, you know that. Living without him is already death.”

“I understand.”

“…Thank you, Chanyeol. I am sorrier than you will ever know.”

“I don’t need any thanks, or apologies,” Chanyeol whispers, shaking his head. The way his bangs flop from side to side could almost be comical. Kyungsoo can’t laugh. “But he does.”

Chanyeol holds a hand out behind his back. Jongin steps forward from the darkness. Even in the faint light, Kyungsoo can make out the tearstains streaking down his cheeks. His famous blue coat, the one he liked to wear on rainy days and all the townspeople recognize, is rumpled and askew.

Chanyeol grasps Kyungsoo’s shoulder only for a second before making his way back to his home. When the King comes looking, Kyungsoo knows he would not tell. Their secret shall be taken to the grave.

But with Chanyeol gone, Kyungsoo is left alone with Jongin. Kyungsoo isn’t the first to speak. But Jongin isn’t, either. Not a single word falls from their lips in the veil of night. When Jongin takes a step forward, Kyungsoo takes one back. He retreats to the door that leads to the sandy beaches of the sea.

Jongin follows like a lost puppy. Kyungsoo remains silent as he reaches the boat Chanyeol has docked with a simple rope. He clamors in and checks that the oars were in place. His foot nudges a stone. As he reaches for the rope, Jongin’s hand stops him. The warmth from the skin to skin contact almost brings Kyungsoo to tears. Almost. How long has it been since he and Jongin had anything more than fleeting glances?

“I’m going.”

“No, you’re not.”

Kyungsoo grits his teeth. “I told you what I was doing and you’re not going to stop me. I will leave one way or another.”

“Not without me, you won’t,” Jongin says. His fingers wrap around Kyungsoo’s small wrist as he climbs into the small boat. His legs cramp at an awkward angle until Kyungsoo scoots over and lets him stretch them out. If he wanted to, Kyungsoo knows he could recline against Jongin’s chest to give them more space.

Jongin unties the knot from the pole and pushes their boat off with his nearest foot. Kyungsoo rows at a steady pace. He doesn’t go any faster than necessary. They have all the time in the world left- there is no reason to rush. His foot taps out an imaginary rhythm against the stones resting in the bottom of the boat. Jongin watches with passive eyes.

They don’t talk. They don’t smile or joke around or reminisce about their good days.

Kyungsoo stops rowing when the shore disappears from sight and then some more. He tosses the oars out into the waves. Jongin blinks slowly, his eyes tracking the way the wood drifts from reach on the water. They remain in the stillness of night under the dim hold of moonlight above.

“The stars are beautiful tonight.”

“They’re the same as every night,” Kyungsoo quips. While his voice is monotone, his eyes say otherwise. Jongin deflates back against the hull of the rowboat. Kyungsoo has been with his lover long enough to know he’s pouting.

“But their stories change. Maybe last night I thought that one to be a comet streaking to our land and now I believe it to be the sun of another land,” Jongin explains, his hands dipping into the water and splashing out to the darkness.

“The sun’s surely forgotten about us by now. Gone for the moon.”

“But I’ll never forget about you.”

Jongin blindly reaches out and takes hold of Kyungsoo’s hand. He interlaces their fingers and squeezes with all his might. Once Jongin lights a fire in his skin, Kyungsoo picks the first stone. It is stuffed into his pocket. Jongin follows with one about the same size.

One by one they stuff their pockets with stones. One by one they weigh their hearts down until only one odd stone remains. Rather than taking it, Kyungsoo tries to skip it into the water. It sinks without one skip.

Jongin stands in the unsteady rowboat. Once he gains his balance, he holds a hand out to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo takes it to pull himself up beside his lover. Jongin leans in and kisses Kyungsoo on the lips. There is no more haste in the action than if they were lounging in the palace’s library. Kyungsoo pulls away first. He places a final peck on Jongin’s cheek.

Kyungsoo wraps his arms around Jongin’s waist. He can feel the muscles tensing to keep them steady on the waves, the ribs that had become prominent the past months, the warmth that Kyungsoo can recognize even in the dead of night.

They don’t count. There’s no “one, two, three” or “let’s go together”.

They don’t speak. Jongin leans out and Kyungsoo’s body moves with him. He draws a breath in on instinct but lets it out the moment he feels his body sinking. The stones are too heavy to fight against.

Nothing exists but Jongin and Kyungsoo and the silent, silent black sea. Kyungsoo holds Jongin’s hand and Jongin holds his. But they are still lost at heart.

Cold water surrounds their bodies.

The ocean roars. It tosses aside the weary as if they were nothing more than foam and soil.

* * *

Jongin opens his eyes.

He blinks once. Twice.

And he falls in love.

He tries to turn his head but find that he’s still frozen in place. He doesn’t fret as the beautiful man in the doorway approaches him just as he hoped he would. Jongin wants to throw his charming smile and see if he could get the man to blush. That would make his century. But he doesn’t smile or move and reach a hand up to run through the man’s black hair.

The man shouts something back and more people come in. But Jongin keeps his eyes on the shorter man leading the group. What beautiful lines that were his eyes and his mouth. Jongin couldn’t help but think that kissing him would be like kissing the moon goddess herself. With his face full of spark and life. Would his heart jump in his chest the same way his sister’s would when she kissed the father of her children?

After thousands of years, Jongin can’t think of a better face to wake up to.

Someone comes to his left side. That eye is still bandaged, leaving the human in a blind spot. His lungs have only started working a moment ago and already he has to hold back a sigh as the man lays his hand on his arm. How soft, how warm that touch! Jongin listens as he says something to his group. It’s a language that holds no meaning to Jongin, but he reveals in it anyways.

It has been so long since he’s heard anyone speak. And now he gets the pleasure of hearing the deepest voice that runs like spiced honey- Jongin couldn’t be any happier. His bed of gold and stone, carved ever so perfectly, is dusted off with rags. Until now, he had been sleeping in peace.

Jongin would rather stay awake forever than have to fall asleep again.

Under miles of stone and sand and the harsh desert sun, under the bandage wrappings and scarabs and bones, the dried fig of Jongin’s heart starts back to beating. The shock is enough to have him pass out cold.

When he awakes, Jongin finds himself being rocked. It’s a gentle motion, nothing jarring or uncomfortable. The sound of water fills his ears and only then does Jongin realize he’s on a boat. A beautiful one, at that. It’s adorned with small suns that glow overhead and a room much nicer than any he remembers from his lifetime. Magic must still be around. His priests and advisors would be pleasantly surprised.

The days come in and the days flow out. Jongin, as excited as he is, finds himself tired.

He watches the blue sea from a window by his bedside. His body is strapped in at the waist, but he can’t find it in him to mind. Over the past days, head has been feeling less like a stuffed doll and more like a human’s again. The bandages still cover most of his body. All that is uncovered is his single eye, part of his mouth, and his right foot.

But then there’s Kyungsoo.

Jongin made sure to listen for his name and memorize it. Every day, Kyungsoo comes in and sits by his bedside and reads whatever book he’s devouring at the time. He found out right away just how much the short man likes to read. Even with his ears covered, Jongin can hear everything that Kyungsoo reads aloud to him. It’s soothing.

Today is no different from the past. Kyungsoo comes in not long after the sun has risen on the blue horizon and plops himself in the plush chair. He drinks from a mug filled with an unknown liquid. Jongin can smell it in whiffs and he feels himself scrunch in disgust. The black liquid even smells bitter and is too hot for his liking.

If Kyungsoo likes it, then maybe Jongin would if he ever got the chance to try it.

Kyungsoo clears his throat after sipping the drink. Jongin readies himself for a relaxing day of listening to Kyungsoo’s voice. The man flips through the pages of a worn book before finding his place from yesterday. His voice begins softly as it always does. It rises in tone and settles into something dark when he speaks for the villain.

He gets to read for only an hour before he’s interrupted. Jongin wants to groan in frustration at the loss of Kyungsoo’s presence.

“Soo! We’re halfway home an’ Professor Junmyeon is requesting a Skype meeting. He said to call in the next five minutes cause he’s free now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right there, Baek. Let me finish this chapter,” Kyungsoo answers. Jongin recognizes the voice- it’s light and airy. Like sweet melon melting upon the tongue. Jongin certainly did miss eating all of the food from when he was alive but listening to voices is enough. Kyungsoo turns to stare down at Jongin. “Well then, you, work calls. And it’s all your fault.”

Kyungsoo smiles like he’s teasing a child. He looks at Jongin, but not _him_. It’s to his body, his bandages, his history. Jongin suspected he’s special that first night. But now he just wants Kyungsoo to talk to him for who he is, not what.

“Jongin.”

The book falls from Kyungsoo’s hand.

His eyes are wide.

“What… what did you say?”

“Jongin. My name,” Jongin answers in Kyungsoo’s own language.

He had always been praised by his teachers for being affluent in languages. Call it a gift from the gods, but he once could speak all of the languages the merchants visiting his home. Every day that Kyungsoo read aloud to him is one more day of learning his language. Jongin tries to offer a disarming smile but found his face still frozen. The only thing he can move are his eyes and his lips in small twitches.

Kyungsoo doesn’t move. He doesn’t even blink. Melon-voice calls again and that breaks Kyungsoo out of his trance. The man bends down to pick up his book and retreats towards the door. He spares more than one glance back over his shoulder. Behind him, the door is shut and locked like normal.

Jongin waits for him to return.

It isn’t hard to wait. Jongin has done it for more centuries than he can count.

After the sun sets, Kyungsoo comes back. It’s just him, without melon-voice or heron-voice. Those two were so loud and boisterous, an unwelcome change from his Kyungsoo. His face is paler than normal when he closes the door behind his back and locks it. Jongin thinks this is strange, a change of routine. Kyungsoo never felt the need to lock, or even close, the door whenever he visits.

Kyungsoo doesn’t say a word. Maybe he’s waiting for Jongin to speak first. And so, he does.

“Is there something wrong?”

He stares at Jongin. He still doesn’t speak. Three steps- that’s all Kyungsoo takes to get closer to Jongin. There is a sizeable distance between them.

“Don’t be scared, please, Kyungsoo.”

“You know my name?”

“You’re the one who’s been reading to me this whole time. I figured I should learn it,” Jongin answers in no more than a whisper. The voice that comes out of his body is frail and lace with rasp. His one uncovered eye stares at Kyungsoo in what he hopes in a gentle look. Jongin figures his face isn’t too pretty right now, at least what’s uncovered, and hopes that doesn’t scare Kyungsoo away.

Kyungsoo nods more to himself than Jongin’s statement. “I was reading aloud. I always do. I just… didn’t think…”

“That I could hear?”

He nods again. Jongin knows he can’t find his words- his face is the same when he comes across a difficult word in the stories. Kyungsoo looks out of place. His gaze turns to the window and the sea, to Jongin, and rests finally on the door. He shuffles backwards until his hand rests on the doorknob. Jongin doesn’t miss the movement.

“Your neck, the tattoo.”

Kyungsoo rubs a hand over the place Jongin mentioned. “What about it?”

“Our priests told me about you. My skin bears the same, I just… didn’t think it would take this long to find you.”

Kyungsoo remains silent. Jongin knows that he’s processing everything he just said. It’s not as if a mummy telling you he had the same tattoo of a forget-me-not is a common occurrence.

“Please don’t leave me alone again. I don’t like being alone.”

This sentence has Kyungsoo freezing. The doorknob rests just under his fingers, but they don’t turn it. Jongin waits. Kyungsoo turns and offers the sweetest spiced honey smile Jongin can imagine.

His heart beats just a little bit faster.

The days don’t pass so slowly anymore. They fly by on the wings of a dove leaving for northern lands, and Jongin is a little discouraged. Kyungsoo has said how they only have so much time before reaching his home, some place called New York City. It’s even bigger than his home and apparently has everything he could ever dream of. The one thing he is worried that Kyungsoo will leave him.

But Jongin never focuses in on that, or what he _will _do. He focuses in on the present with Kyungsoo by his side. Jongin has figured out without much trouble that he loves making Kyungsoo laugh. His nose scrunches and his lips pull up into the shape of a perfect heart. Whether it’s a joke or a side comment, Jongin has found himself trying harder to be funny just to see that smile.

Kyungsoo came in that morning earlier than usual (not that Jongin is complaining one bit). He settled down with his coffee in his lap and no book in hand. Ever since he found out that Jongin is listening to his every word, Kyungsoo is telling him stories of his life and the world today rather than fake written ones. Jongin quite enjoyed anything that Kyungsoo told him.

Right now, Kyungsoo is searching for where he placed his glasses. When he finally grabs them and perches them atop his nose, Jongin wants to squeal. But he settles for brushing the few bangs hanging over the man’s forehead instead. Kyungsoo pauses.

“You can move.” It isn’t a question.

“I’ve been practicing,” Jongin says with a cheeky smile. The first time he moves around Kyungsoo and it’s his hair that he touches. It is even softer than he imagined.

With the feeling soft hair comes more movement. Jongin gets his muscles to work and relearns how to sit up. He practices talking without half of his face freezing and slurring the words. He turns the pages of books placed in his lap and grips the blanket covering his lap. The only thing Jongin misses is walking, but that will come in due time. He is sure of it.

Today Kyungsoo is sitting by his side. Nothing is in his hands but Jongin’s own. Their fingers are barely laced together. His heart is doing flips in his chest. It’s then that Jongin realizes how much he’s missed the feeling of being alive, even up until now.

Kyungsoo breaks their silence first.

“Are you cursed, Jongin?”

Jongin knew this question is coming. He isn’t exactly normal. But the one thing he isn’t, is cursed anymore.

“I think that I’m cured.”

“Cheesy…” Kyungsoo laughs. Jongin doesn’t know why, all he said was the truth. His lips are a heart as if that word, meaningless to Jongin, is an inside joke. Jongin want to lean in and kiss them again but can’t find the courage to. Not now. Maybe later. “Tell me of the Nile, Jongin.” Kyungsoo leans his head until it rests against Jongin’s wrapped shoulder.

It’s a different thing every day that he asks about. Yesterday it was the clothing, before that it was cattails and bulrushes that dotted the marshes of his home. Kyungsoo never seemed to tire of hearing his tales and Jongin didn’t tire of telling them.

They reach New York within the week. The two other men on the ship are the ones to roll Jongin in on a sealed bed. They bicker and play fight with each other the whole time and pay no mind to Jongin. Yet another reason to prefer Kyungsoo. While they don’t pass by a single other person, Jongin already feels his nerves racing. Kyungsoo told him of what his new life would become. From what he said, Jongin isn’t sure if that new life is everything he was expecting.

When the sun rises, and the doors open, Jongin pretends he is dead.

The glass covered case trapping his body his new coffin. It’s more uncomfortable than his bed of stone and gold. People crowd around his case to see him day in and day out. Jongin wants to speak, to pull faces at the toddlers pressing their sticky fingers against his case. A good scream from a shocked old lady certainly would help his foul mood.

But he doesn’t do any of that. As much as he would like to, Jongin knows he shouldn’t. Kyungsoo told him to stay perfectly still. If he did, the short man said that he would visit every night he could to talk with him. And Kyungsoo keeps his promise to him.

Much like the night before, Kyungsoo shows up to his glass home after the building closes. Jongin sits up after he slides the cover off. The lid is placed on the ground. It doesn’t crash under Kyungsoo’s careful hand. Jongin picks his favorite scarab off his body and runs it through his fingers. He tucks it within the folds of his bandages to carry around with him and leaves the rest scattered about.

Kyungsoo is wearing his favorite blue raincoat; Jongin knows it must be raining outside. Although Jongin can’t remember the feeling of rain against his skin, he knows he loves it.

“You ready, Jongin? I don’t think I’ve taken you to the Ancient Greece exhibit yet. It’s not my favorite, but it’s the biggest.”

“I guess, I’d prefer seeing the big cats again!”

“We’ve seen them enough that I think you could recite everything I’ve told you,” Kyungsoo teases. Jongin offers a smile and pushes his body up to a sitting position.

“Help me out?”

Kyungsoo takes his hand and helps Jongin to stand against the red tiles of the floor. Soon after leaving the boat, Kyungsoo had begun to teach him how to walk again. It’s a tedious process that finally is beginning to be paid off.

The two wander the halls of the building. Jongin calls it a tomb, Kyungsoo calls it a museum.

“Wait…” Jongin breathes out. They haven’t so much as left the Egypt exhibit. He stops to rest every few paces, but Kyungsoo never seems bothered. As he holds his bony chest in his unraveling hand, he only rubs his back until his lungs gain back the breath they lost.

“Not too bad yet, is it?” Kyungsoo asks, his worry evident. Jongin waves a hand. It’s nothing he can’t handle. He reaches to grip onto Kyungsoo’s arm and lets him lead him around. Kyungsoo fills the silence by asking Jongin about his family, sometimes his town. They all are reminiscent of the questions from the boat.

“What were we speaking of last night?”

Kyungsoo stops to think. “I think… the rituals the priests would conduct to honor ruling gods versus the rituals for lesser gods. Want to continue that?”

“That’s boring though!” Jongin says. “I had a sister, and a niece and nephew that I haven’t talked much about.”

“Then please, enlighten me. I’m sure they were very cute,” Kyungsoo says with a dramatic wave of his hand. Jongin finds this cheesy. And so, he goes into the tales of Raon and Rahee with their mischief. As he tells their stories, Jongin finds himself missing his entire family and the familiarity of it all.

The two continue walking, and Jongin continues telling his tales.

It becomes less and less that he stops to catch his breath.

They wander to more areas. Jongin is beyond excited to see the animals set in mock fights again, rising above his head. The Mongols had war armor that Jongin is thoroughly impressed by; he didn’t even know that some of these ancient peoples lived at the same time as him.

His hand unravels the bandaged eye to look closer at a painting and finds that his sight is perfect. The excess bandages are wrapped around his neck during the night. It’s easier to walk around that way without them dragging on the ground. Kyungsoo always helps him place them before morning comes.

With every passing night, Kyungsoo is the one looking tired. Jongin guesses its from staying up every night to visit him. It is for almost the whole night that he talks with the short man. Jongin pushes Kyungsoo to take a night or two off, but he’s persistent. The man goes on to explain the book he’s writing over Jongin himself and that every question is one step closer to being published. And his thesis for graduating college is due soon- another paper over Jongin’s life.

They figure a good way to pass the time is to start teaching Jongin how to read.

It isn’t easy by any means, no, but Jongin has found how much Kyungsoo loves a challenge. They practice on the papers Kyungsoo is writing about him. Jongin picks it up easily. He knew the ancient scripts of the gods and commoners both. Learning this writing is no different, if not easier. Jongin flips through the pages of Kyungsoo’s work and marks with a pen; the red contrasts the black text in sharp bursts.

Jongin goes back to death in the morning.

Sitting in the case gives Jongin plenty of time to mull over his new life. A camera flashes and he drifts into his thoughts. Some of the things, Jongin has no clue how Kyungsoo learned about his life. But he only assumes that Kyungsoo and his team translated something exciting.

The months pass.

Jongin’s arms and feet have been unraveled from their wrappings from how much he uses them. The only bandages still left are his chest and upper legs- the rest must be redone every dawn. As annoying as it is, Jongin can’t help but be excited. But his excitement dulls with how many more people come to see him.

Kyungsoo’s book is an instant success. No one could figure out how the man discovered so many details that were accurate- even his professor is impressed. Kyungsoo told him how difficult that is to do with any subject.

But Jongin’s happiness over Kyungsoo’s success dies out watching the next group of gawkers. Families from Iowa come to look at his decaying bandages. Families from Upper West Side take photos of their faces next to his own. Families from Japan read his biography plate. Jongin feels his patience slipping. His own promise to Kyungsoo breaks.

It’s simply too much one day. Jongin decides he needs to leave.

Between the children on field trips and overtired parents, Jongin pushes the glass cover of his coffin. It shatters into a million pinpricked shards the moment it touches the ground. As chaos ensues, Jongin walks out on steady legs to find Kyungsoo. He wants a familiar face.

It isn’t hard to find him. He’s the only one using a cane in the crowd of people gathering in his exhibit. Jongin doesn’t have to push his way through the people to get to him- they part as if one touch would burn their skin. The closer he gets, the more he can tell that Kyungsoo’s face is paler than normal. But he’s happy to see Jongin, no matter the trouble he’s caused. A smile fights its way onto his lips.

“Care to join me?” Jongin asks, offering his elbow. Kyungsoo takes it gratefully.

“It’s hot out today, humid too.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve felt the sun, I can’t find it in me to care,” Jongin responds. They walk through the museum halls with Jongin supporting Kyungsoo’s frail frame. People trail behind at a safe distance. Jongin glances back and sees all of them on their phones- magic boxes that he has yet to figure out.

It isn’t long before they reach the entrance doors. “Jongin…”

Jongin pauses. He waits as the door opens to the world but doesn’t turn to look at Kyungsoo’s face.

“Are you cursed?”

Someone pulls the doors open. Jongin’s answer is obscured by flashing cameras and reporters swarming the museum. Jongin covers his face with his bare hands. Between the sun and the lights, his eyes feel as if they are going blind. But then his vision adjusts, and his skin is glowing a honey tan. The heat feels like a kiss from Ra on Jongin’s skin.

The people start taking pictures, whispering, yelling. The sandstorm of confusion gives way to an arm pulling him and Kyungsoo away from the people. He is shoved first into a carriage with Kyungsoo following his side.

“Shit, Soo. What the fuck is going on?!”

Ah, it’s melon-voice. Baekhyun, if he remembers right.

“Listen Baek, just get us out of here. Please,” Kyungsoo begs. His voice cracks at the end of his sentence.

“Yeah… yeah, yeah okay we’re going to my house,” Baekhyun says more to himself than either of them.

“How far is it?” Jongin pipes up as he watches the buildings rush past from his window. His mind glazes over in the wonder of it all.

“Holy fuck, he can talk too? Kyungsoo, God save your soul if you lie, did you know about this?!” Baekhyun screams as he whips away from a red light. With no warning, Baekhyun yanks the wheel and turns right. Jongin must grip onto the side handle to steady himself. Kyungsoo tumbles into his lap.

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“We have a thousand-year-old dead guy alive and speaking to us in my car as I run away from rabid reporters. I think I’ll believe you.”

“Since the boat...” Kyungsoo supplies after a pause. He takes in a deep breath as Baekhyun turns into an underground area. Jongin’s eyes widen at how many other mechanical carriages are spread over the cement. “When I called Professor Junmyeon the first time.”

“That long?”

Kyungsoo nods.

“How long has it been anyways?” Jongin asks. He draws his eyebrows together as he tries to think of how long he had been at the museum. The days bleed together in his mind.

“Um, one month on the boat, and seven in the museum. We’ve- oh God, you were awake that whole time! Jesus fuck. Even when we sent you through the MRI scanner…” Baekhyun trails off as he pulls into an empty place. Jongin feels nauseous after being driven around so recklessly and is glad when the rumbling stops.

“How long is that? Soo explained your concept of time once, but it makes no sense.”

“He calls you Soo?!” Baekhyun exclaims. His eyes are wide with disbelief.

“It’s about two hundred and forty days.”

“Not long then,” Jongin finishes. He crawls out of the carriage in the same way Baekhyun does in front of him. Baekhyun’s phone chimes in his pants pocket. He pulls it out and glares at the screen before answering. Jongin tries to keep up with his rapid words but finds himself paying more attention to Kyungsoo instead.

Baekhyun hangs up the phone. He gives Jongin a wry smile.

Jongin and Kyungsoo tour the nation, per request of Professor Junmyeon. It’s all so new for Jongin that he finds himself overwhelmed and overjoyed. The priests never spoke of becoming famous or having this much attention when they laid him to rest; all they spoke of was a second chance at life.

To get to the first city, Professor Junmyeon tried to book them tickets for a private car on a passenger train. A way for Jongin to tour the country, he explained. But Jongin wouldn’t step foot onto the metal contraption. They take to driving and flying to each meeting, and Jongin fell in love even more.

The newspaper interviews turn into late night talk shows, and the cars turn into limos. Jongin meets others as interested in him as Kyungsoo is. The women all swoon at his sculpted face no longer hidden by bandages. He removed the last of the bandages on his torso the night of the first interview and hasn’t looked back since. But he keeps them in a suitcase that he drags along. Just in case.

He stands behind yet another podium to give a speech about his time then and his time now. The speech is dominated by his fond words for Kyungsoo; their nights in the museum are the best memories from his new life. And the crowd always eats it up. They coo and cheer at how reanimated Jongin’s words are.

After the nightly speech, Jongin settles into the room next to Kyungsoo on the bed.

“You weren’t there again, I didn’t see you!” Jongin tries to act pitiful. Kyungsoo’s face remains impassive.

“I was in the back.”

“Why? It’s dark and I can’t see you when I speak then!”

“You know what Jongin? I’m sorry then,” Kyungsoo snaps. His face is pinched and Jongin flinches back. “I’m sorry this is all about you and your life and that I’m tired of it! I’m exhausted- I can’t walk outside without getting sick.”

“I…”

“I feel like just another rag of fabric that you’re dragging behind.”

Jongin knows from how upset Kyungsoo is that it’s mental and physical. A truly bad combination.

“You don’t have to come to the interviews then… just, just wait for me in the hotels then?”

Kyungsoo doesn’t bring himself to answer. He rolls over under the blankets and mutters a ‘good night’. Jongin knows not to push his luck. As Kyungsoo sleeps, he stays awake staring at a back wall. Jongin doesn’t dare close his own eyes.

Like he suggested, Kyungsoo’s standing at the back turns into staying at the hotel. He stops going out at all. There’s no more late-night snacks or swimming in the chlorinated pools. Kyungsoo lies in bed in the hotel of whatever town Jongin is speaking at. Jongin doesn’t feel the worry he knows he should in a situation like this.

The next presentation for Jongin is back in Egypt. Kyungsoo flies out with him. They speak in a small town near the pyramid he’s slept in for centuries. Jongin feels bittersweet about this visit. He knows that it’ll be the last good time they have together.

Before he travels back to the hotel to Kyungsoo, he asks the guards for special clearance to his old tomb. They grant it to him. Jongin winds down the halls to his stone and gold bed. Other than the fine layer of dust, its condition is just as impeccable as when he woke up. He clears the dust and arranges the lid to be pushed over the actual coffin. Jongin leaves his favorite scarab- the one for peaceful sleep- on top. He knows he’s going to be coming back later that night.

Kyungsoo’s face starts to set.

His hands start to fold.

Jongin lays his body with care in the stone and gold. He puts the scarabs over his chest and body. The bandages look so much messier when he wrapped them than when the priests did his. But Kyungsoo looks peaceful. Jongin kisses the scarab for peaceful sleep. It lays atop Kyungsoo’s head.

Jongin closes his eyes.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like _this_. I wasn’t supposed to be the one to fall in love,” Jongin whispers to no one but the hieroglyphs. “Love was supposed to give me a new life.”

But Kyungsoo knew what was happening, how could he not? Jongin can’t find it in his mind to care about seeing the rest of the world and the reporters alone. Kyungsoo couldn’t be saved now. Even with him clinging to his last thread of life, Kyungsoo is beautiful in Jongin’s old eyes.

Jongin crawls into the sarcophagus next to his love. It’s a tight fit- not made for two people.

He shuts the lid.

The dried fig of Jongin and Kyungsoo’s heart stops beating.

_Long ago on the ship, Kyungsoo asked him about the pyramids. Why that shape, why so tall? Jongin answered that they were a huge invitation to outsiders and the gods alike. Kyungsoo laughs and holds tighter onto Jongin’s hand._

_“Are you cursed, Mr. Mummy?” Kyungsoo teases. _

_“I think that I’m cured.” _

_Jongin finds a flash of courage and kisses Kyungsoo on his heart lips. _

_He hoped Kyungsoo would forget that question._

* * *

“If this was the Cold War, I could help keep you warm,” Kyungsoo says to break the silence between him and Jongin. He isn’t a joking person by nature, but this situation needs to be lightened somehow. It is the first time he has ever met the other solider and he is instantly enamored. Call him a romantic at heart. Jongin, not so much. He doesn’t even giggle at the pickup line; Kyungsoo’s initial mood deflates.

They are crawling through the small door leading down into the bunker. It’s a tight fit in the tunnel from the outdoors down the ladder to their new home. Above them, they can hear the man above locking the hatch for the next two years. The ladder down into the living quarters isn’t made for people as tall as Jongin and Kyungsoo feels a bit of pit rise up for the tall soldier. Being in the short king’s realm of five foot-something has its perks.

Jongin gets stuck on the ladder above Kyungsoo, only for a second, as they went into the second silo door. Their bags and personal items were tossed down into their waiting arms. For Jongin, well, Kyungsoo didn’t dare ask what he chose to bring.

Going through the next two levels of safety hatches, a lot can be brought to mind. Radiation if it seeps through, the day they received The Orders (Kyungsoo still believes they were spoken with capital letters, just like everything else regarding their lives in the military), how long the food will last if they misjudged the amount. But Kyungsoo has only one thought plaguing his mind.

Kyungsoo is sure that Jongin doesn’t think too much of him. And it stings.

They’ll never have to love each other like they have to love The Bomb. It isn’t a requirement. But maybe it would be beneficial to have someone so close to your heart in these tight quarters. For The Bomb, it had been a learning process of how to take care of the casing and polishing its button. That love will finally become of use now. Kyungsoo has, after all, spent the last months of his life learning about his duty in pressing it.

But between them, Kyungsoo knows there is something more. ‘Hopes’ might be a better word than ‘knows’. Because Jongin comes along with him down into the ground and takes right to ignoring him. Not a single word, not a single glance. That has never happened before. Kyungsoo is gentle and sweet, loves to have the constant but subtle attention of all his friends; he is _used _to the attention. Everyone adores him

Except, apparently, for one Kim Jongin.

He will simply have to change that.

_“Help me, I’m losing_

_To the ghosts in my head I am fighting_

_Waiting on answers_

_I can’t win this on my own,”_

Kyungsoo sings under his breath as he flips through the instruction manual. Who knew the Great Big Button has so many rules as to how to push it? All it is, is a big piece of plastic holing the fate of humanity in its cold steel hands. He remembers the song as the lyrics pour from his lips. His brother had played it whenever he was in a depressing mood. It connects him from _here _to up _there_.

The manual gets tossed to the side table. He’s read it front to back, back to front more times than he can count but it is something to do. Maybe Kyungsoo can try translating it into Pig Latin next time if they had the paper to spare. Kyungsoo remembers the basics of it from when he and Baekhyun learned it in eighth grade.

He glances around to look for his partner before coming up empty. The only one in the living quarters is him. Jongin disappeared a while ago into the bedroom and has yet to return. The bunker has so little privacy that Kyungsoo didn’t feel comfortable ruining the momentary peace for Jongin.

_“Oh, but I bleed_

_For someone to believe me_

_And see what I see,”_

He continues the song.

Kyungsoo doesn’t have to think about the lyrics anymore as the familiar words fill his mind; God knows his brother is depressed over random girls. Day in, day out he’d be moody enough to wail over it and ice cream more than once. The Big One is coming and Kyungsoo is sitting singing songs. It’s an odd situation, but Kyungsoo enjoys it nonetheless. Maybe Jongin enjoys it too. He can hope he does. Kyungsoo’s brother did always say he had a wonderful singing voice. Leaning his head back on the chair with closed eyes, Kyungsoo takes a breath to continue to the chorus.

But someone else beats him too it.

_“If only, if only my head would let me free_

_Then you would take a chance on me_

_If only your story was who I wanna be_

_If only you would roll it all on me.”_

Kyungsoo’s eyes shoot open and stare at the other man leaning against the bedroom’s wall. Jongin stands right around the corner; Kyungsoo can only see his shoulder and side of his head. But that is more than enough.

“You have a lovely voice. It’s unique,” Kyungsoo says to the hidden figure. It stiffens before turning to walk back to the bedroom.

“So do you.”

Call him a hopeless romantic grasping at nothing, but Kyungsoo is sure that Jongin has started feeling something for him.

“What are six letters for a songbird with a strong sharply hooked bill?”

“S-H-R-I-K-E.”

Jongin scribbles it down.

“Next. Number seven across. Another six letters that spell roof of mouth.”

Kyungsoo twirls the pen in his hands as he racks his brain. “Palate? I think you spell it P-A-L-E-T-E.”

“No, that can’t be. It interferes with ‘maiden’ on the first e.”

“Try P-A-L-A-T-E then.”

Jongin writes the word into the little boxes and lets out a whoop. Kyungsoo relaxes back into the wooden chair and kicks his legs out. Between the two of them, Jongin is the only one that even tried to think of the future when they packed to come inside. He had brought thousand-piece puzzles, board games, and crosswords all to keep himself entertained. And now he shares them with Kyungsoo to keep the boredom away. It is much more entertaining together than alone.

Kyungsoo had only thought to bring a stress ball, empty notebooks, and beef jerky.

“What five letters spell ‘apocalypse’?” Jongin asks. His feet are swinging back and forth as he sits atop the kitchen’s single counter. Kyungsoo grabs one and let it thump back against the counter. Jongin shoots him a look that Kyungsoo can’t quite decipher.

“W.”

“Okay…”

“W.”

“Mmhmm…”

“I. I. I.”

Jongin bursts out into a fit of giggles as he wrote the letters in with his pen. “It fits! It shouldn’t but it fits!”

Kyungsoo himself begins to laugh at the absurdity and motions Jongin over to show him the crossword. Lo and behold, it works perfectly. There sat W-W-I-I-I right between ‘lawyer’ and ‘historian’. He smiles up to the other and receives one in return. One of the first, Kyungsoo thinks. Jongin’s cheeks go red and he coughs loudly. His eyes flit back down to his crossword.

They both know, whether it is then or sometime before, that Jongin misjudged Kyungsoo.

Unlike Jongin, Kyungsoo finds it quite easy to fall in love. It is like a second nature for his caring heart. His friends had always told him his heart is too fast to fall in love or fall to hate someone. It would be the death of him one day. And the rest of his emotions aren’t spared either. 

And then comes the predicament of Jongin. Kyungsoo certainly feels something for the tall soldier when they sing together or do the dishes or eat a disappointing dinner every night. To be with Jongin is to be at home or something of the like.

When Kyungsoo sits down at the control panel, he feels his heart swell as Jongin sweeps the floor. His thumb rests above the Great Big Button and his eyes upon the latter’s body swaying to an imaginary song only he could hear.

Chores are a daily thing to be switched between Jongin and Kyungsoo. They try not to think about how dirt gets into a closed off bunker, but then again, it gives the living space a sense of normalcy. So does the simplicity of making the beds or straightening up the books.

And normal is the only thing left to cling to.

“Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo. Soo!”

Kyungsoo startles awake and tries to find his bearings in the darkness. The cot beneath his back creaks as he sat up and rubs at his eyes. Even if it isn’t pitch black in the room, Kyungsoo wouldn’t be able to see five inches in front of his face. He turns to the direction Jongin’s voice came from. “What?” he croaks with a voice much raspier than he planned.

“I just thought, why do people who break up always want to get back together with the same person?”

“What?” he asks again. His groggy brain is struggling to catch up to Jongin’s words.

“So, when two people aren’t together for a long time but then see each other again, why do they go straight for each other? Like high school sweethearts that broke up and even if one’s married now, they always seem to get back together and ruin everything. That’s what all the stories are like. And I’ve seen it so many times in real life, with friends y’know?, that I’m starting to think it’s the truth.”

“I don’t know. Can we talk about this in the morning?”

Jongin shakes his head furiously. Kyungsoo doesn’t see it, but he hears his hair whipping back and forth. “It’s because lonely people want familiarity! And they think that they’ll always be lonely without it and the new lover isn’t as familiar as the first. There’s something that the first lover will always have that the new guy will never! That’s what I think.”

“You’ve really thought this out, haven’t you?”

“Yup.”

“How long?”

“Two hours. I think.”

Kyungsoo sighs. Jongin isn’t going to fall back asleep any time soon, and he will only keep waking him up if there were more ideas that pop into his mind. Kyungsoo ignores the tugging at his heart as he knows that Jongin is probably talking about one of his exes. It wouldn’t be the first time. Kyungsoo sits up and pulls Jongin onto his bed by his side. Jongin is like a furnace against his skin. “Well what about people who never break up?”

“What do you mean?” Jongin draws close enough to Kyungsoo that he can feel the hot breaths with every word against his skin. His nimble fingers draw random circles into Kyungsoo’s back and he would be lying if he says he doesn’t like the feel of that. They lean back so their heads rest on the same pillow.

“I mean, what about the people who are together forever? Even if they break up a few times but stay together their whole lives? Are they still lonely?”

“Well, it depends.”

Jongin scoots himself up closer to Kyungsoo’s face. Kyungsoo waits until Jongin has leaned in close before risking a peck against his lips. He breaks away only to ask, “on what?”

“On whether or not both people put love and effort into the relationship.”

All night long, Jongin drives Kyungsoo wild with his thoughts on love.

He showed what he believes with enthusiasm.

“Y’know, Mr. Boss Man might not like how much time we take out of our day to, um, not be available to do our job in the control room.”

Kyungsoo stares at Jongin incredulously. “You mean how much time we take to…”

“Don’t finish that sentence!” Jongin says as he throws a pillow at Kyungsoo’s face. “Besides, aren’t we supposed to sleep in shifts, not together?”

“Mm… I like sleeping together much better than alone.”

Jongin soon captures Kyungsoo in his arms and swings him around in the air. He screeches and grips onto the arms around Jongin’s waist in fear of falling. Kyungsoo lands back down on the ground and receives a kiss to his temple for his troubles. He picks up the pillow again and whacks Jongin in retaliation. They start giggling together at how ridiculous it all seems.

“They probably don’t like us ransacking the rations after, either. Sex makes a ten-year supply last maybe six months.”

“We’ll just have to tell them we need to leave early then,” Jongin jokes back. He stands to wipe the invisible dust from his pants. “I sure as hell don’t want to stay down here more than I have to. Two years is too much!”

Kyungsoo nods in agreement as Jongin goes to make them something for dinner. He is left alone in the bedroom. But that harmless little statement plants itself in Kyungsoo’s brain. And it grows into something that leaves Kyungsoo with an awful feeling and his heart clenching.

What will it be like once they left?

He pushes the thought to the back of his mind to be thought of only at night and on bad days. Days are for enjoying Jongin, nights are for sex and occasionally thinking of soul crushing thoughts. The avalanche of emotions will crash down the moment he began to daydream, and his eyes get washed away with chemical chain reactions caused by the release of stress hormones in his brain.

Yeah, Kyungsoo doesn’t want to think about leaving right now. Crying is never fun.

Kyungsoo rests his chin on Jongin’s shoulder as they stare at the world map. A blue dot sits in the middle of nowhere. Halfway across the world sits a matching red dot. It, too, is in the middle of nowhere with no rhyme or reason to its location. Specifics were never given in their orders and aren’t written in the manual. Kyungsoo remembers being blindfolded during the drive to the silo.

A few more homemade pins are scattered across the map. Cities and towns that Kyungsoo recongizes from big screen movies only.

“I wish I could go back to Tokyo. It was so nice there,” Jongin murmurs wistfully as his fingers play with the pin marking Japan. Kyungsoo chuckled, the sound reverberating through Jongin’s body.

“I want to go to Moscow, Russia. It’s on my bucket list.”

“Ooh, so romantic!” Jongin teases.

Kyungsoo shrugs but doesn’t disagree. “What can I say? I’m a true romantic at heart.”

“Well, then Mr. Romantic, where do you think the best place to fall in love is?” Jongin questions as he offers a pin to Kyungsoo. He takes it and rolls the green pinhead between his fingers. The sharp end pricks him only once.

“You first.”

“Fine. I’d say Barcelona. Or London! I need more than one pin, I think. They’re so famous, and the old buildings are beautiful…”

Jongin continues to ramble about his choices; Kyungsoo tunes out the reasons why. Kyungsoo only needs a single pin- one little green painted pin- to show where he thinks the best place to fall in love would be.

A top secret, government controlled, bunker 300-some-feet buried underneath the ground smack in the middle of the northern Canadian forests. And that is romantic enough for him.

But he doesn’t place the pin. Kyungsoo hands it off to Jongin so he can label yet another place that he would someday like to visit- maybe to fall in love. The green pin ends up in Paris rather than their bunker. It is cliché; Kyungsoo believes the pin deserves a better spot than every white girl’s dream place to get engaged. But Jongin is happy. Kyungsoo is happy.

He tightens his arms around Jongin’s waist.

And everything will be okay, as it should be.

“Kyungsoo…”

“Hmm?”

Jongin bites his lip, running a hand over the exposed skin of Kyungsoo’s wrist. “If we weren’t here, what would you do? Where would you go?”

Kyungsoo ponders the question only for a moment. He leans in close until his nose is tucked against Jongin’s neck and collarbone. It’s close enough to smell the ‘unscented’ soap provided to them.

“I would hold you close and stay up with you every night, talking about whatever we wanted. You could hold me on the other nights where we lay in silence. We could sleep under the soft blankets of a bed too big for one person, or camp outside and sleep under the stars. Maybe in one of those places. France, or Italy, or New York City. Where I would say ‘I love you’ every day more than I do now.”

Jongin doesn’t answer, he stays still while looking at the map. The pins dot out a meaningless pattern that Kyungsoo couldn’t identify if he tries. Jongin smiles, taking Kyungsoo’s smaller hand in his own.

“It’s been a long enough day, don’t you think? We should go to bed. Together.”

“Cuddle with me?”

Jongin snorts, calling Kyungsoo a big baby. He doesn’t disagree. They shuffle into the sleeping quarters and shuck out of their designated day clothes and into the softer pajamas. Kyungsoo sets the alarm for a generous nine hours and shuts the overhead lights off before crawling under the covers after Jongin. Without much thought, Jongin’s fingers lazily trace up the length of Kyungsoo’s back before stopping at the base of his neck.

It is so easy to forget about the tattoo binding their lives together, discovered one sleepless night where both had too many emotions pent up inside. Kyungsoo wishes that Jongin believed the same thing he does about soulmates. But he can settle for what is given to him.

With the thought of starry camping cuddles and armfuls of forget-me-nots in mind, Kyungsoo gazed into the dark.

The dark always makes him think.

If he tries, not even very hard, he can pretend that it’s the same night sky he’s been studying since he was a child. The constellations of Aquila and Gemini and Draco are playing against the Milky Way the same way every night. Kyungsoo would be warm in his blue raincoat, brought out in case of a popup thunderstorm or the night wind chilling his skin.

But here… Maybe it could be a cloudy night, with no moon peeking through. That’s why there were no stars. The Bomb in the room to their left could be an old oak tree instead. And Kyungsoo would carve a ‘K’ while Jongin carved a ‘J’ into the wood with jackknives.

But something tells Kyungsoo, that nagging little voice in the back of his every thought, that things won’t work out in their lives above. Their love will live the half-life of a half-life within the presences of other people- other options for relationships. Kyungsoo doesn’t feel like he had competition for looks, or even humor, but there will always be _another_ to Jongin. But never to Kyungsoo.

So, when Jongin falls asleep, Kyungsoo pulls him closer just because he can. He whispers an ‘I love you’ that Jongin has never returned, awake or asleep. The small body between his strong arms- it’s like something out of a teen romance novel. As the number of days on the countdown calendar grow smaller, Kyungsoo’s nerves only grew larger.

They will be out of here in less than a year. 139 days to be exact. 139 days and the locked silo hatch to the outside will be unlocked for the light of day to enter in. Their time to serve down below isn’t long, the military can’t afford to have their subordinates going crazy without any other human contact.

At least, that’s what they believe would happen. Kyungsoo thinks he’d be fine with just Jongin.

He thinks about the Big One. He thinks about W-W-I-I-I and the missiles and bombs and death they never would get to see. Because underneath the Earth herself, would he or Jongin ever even care the world had ended? Would they know? The bunker is stocked for years; if the door is still locked, him and Jongin wouldn’t leave.

And if Jongin never leaves, then Kyungsoo can hold him forever in the cheesy teen romance way he’s secretly always dreamed of doing. the ‘I love you’s’ will be said until eternity. Tonight won’t be a memory, it would become the present. This could be every night of Kyungsoo’s near life. Never mind the blankets that aren’t soft and bland food and starless dark.

Everything could just stay this way forever. One millisecond and his and Jongin’s lives would be frozen at the same moment in time with no return.

Kyungsoo thinks about that Great Big Button.

And he finds himself too tempted to resist.

* * *

“Jongin, is the third batch done yet?” Kyungsoo asks out into the kitchen. He hears a noise of confirmation and the instant clattering of a baking tray. His husband comes out with a cooled tray of lemon-flavored cupcakes in hand. Jongin smiles at Kyungsoo with flour streaked on his cheek before heading back into the kitchen to begin the next flavors for the day.

Kyungsoo takes a breath, takes a sip of coffee to wake his mind.

This has to be Kyungsoo’s favorite time. Five in the morning, only him and Jongin in the world. Well, only him and Jongin in the bakery- but it’s all the same to Kyungsoo. This is the only time they can openly show affection in their bustling home of Seoul- in the corner store cupcake shop they purchased instead of going on a honeymoon.

“The green tea ones are next, right?”

Kyungsoo spares a glance to the spreadsheet taped on the wall. He and Jongin have created over three hundred cupcake flavors, and they try to sell all of them at some point during the month. The spreadsheet just helps to organize their plans. Today is an average Tuesday, and one of the fifteen flavors for the day is green tea.

“Yup.”

“What about the peanut butter one? Which is it today?”

He squints at the chart through his smudged glasses. Whichever one of them had the idea to print the text so small should get a smack to the shoulder. “Peanut butter cookie cheesecake.”

There is a crash from the kitchen. A muffled “oh no” drifts out of the kitchen and Kyungsoo pokes his head into the kitchen to make sure his husband is okay. Jongin is picking up pieces of a broken glass measuring cup.

“Careful, careful,” Kyungsoo says in a rush as he came to help Jongin. But as he tries to keep Jongin from hurting himself, Kyungsoo catches his finger on a small shard. A trail of blood forms at the tip of his finger and Jongin hurries him to the sink. At least the glass is all cleaned up.

The water stings as it touches where the cut is. Kyungsoo hisses at the pain.

“It’s like the first time we met!”

Kyungsoo laughs at the memory as he allows Jongin to put a band-aid on. “You dropped a mug of hot chocolate in the dorm lounge, I remember.”

“At least there’s not scalding cocoa in this,” Jongin says, focusing on Kyungsoo’s finger and making sure it is properly wrapped. “Ah, undergrad in business. Good times.”

“Don’t forget that Baekhyun said that moment would begin our marriage!”

“Didn’t you scream at me for being an idiot?”

“That I did.”

Jongin doesn’t respond with anything but a kiss on the lips after that.

Kyungsoo turns back to his own task at hand in the front. With the whipped raspberry frosting in hand, he pipes a bit of the frosting onto a wax sheet for a test. When he is satisfied with the design the tip produced, he loads each of the lemon cupcakes up with the fruity frosting. After each of the cupcakes gets frosted, Kyungsoo grabs the containers of white and light-yellow jimmies sprinkles. He carefully dusts a mixture of the two in the center of each.

Once Kyungsoo is happy with their appearance, he places the tray of lemon raspberry cupcakes out for the opening display between the brownie batter and peach Moscato flavors.

He allows himself a moment to walk around the main dining area to make sure nothing is out of place. Sehun should be in in about an hour to check in for his shift; Kyungsoo is eternally grateful for Jongin’s twin helping them out during the morning shift. None of the other employees could come in but Sehun is such a morning person that he never minded.

The sun hasn’t even risen yet from sleeping below the horizon when Sehun saunters in. The winter air always keeps the night sky hanging around until seven in the morning. He gives a hug to both Jongin and Kyungsoo as his ‘good morning’. As chic and cold he always appears, Sehun is nothing more than a softie who loves being doted on and cuddling.

“Did you and Jongin get all the making-out out of the way,” Sehun teases as he wraps the pale-yellow apron around his torso. Kyungsoo doesn’t look up from his frosting, but he still gives an unimpressed hum at the remark.

“Not yet. You’ll have to suffer through us being gross.”

Sehun gives too dramatic of a groan for it to be anything but lighthearted. After checking that his apron is knotted securely at the waist, he leaves to take the chairs off of the tables they are flipped over on.

“Hun?”

Kyungsoo and Sehun answer with a short ‘what?’ at the same time. Jongin steps out of the kitchen with a fond look leaving Sehun gagging again.

“Brother Hun. Not lover hon.”

“You two are disgusting, I swear. Soulmates. I’ll never understand ‘em,” Sehun mumbles with the faintest trace of a smile. “But what did you need?”

“I just wanted to know what time you were leaving today. Minseok and Yixing said they both might be able to come in, but I don’t think either were too fond on the idea. If you aren’t staying late, we might close early.”

“Sorry, but yeah… I have to meet Chanyeol to review over presentation for biochem. Last time, he accidently had the wrong slides in the PowerPoint, and we got docked points. I love the guy- but he really needs to screw his head on.”

“We can do a date night tonight then!” Kyungsoo adds when Jongin deposits the next tray of Wedding Cake flavored cupcakes in front of him. The smell alone is enough for Kyungsoo’s mouth to start watering.

“Who needs a date night when we can have a wedding right here?” Jongin purrs over seductively. He dips a finger into the almond frosting and giggles like a child when Kyungsoo smacks his hand away. Sehun rolls his eyes and goes back to his task of sorting the money in the cash register.

They end up closing two hours early.

Kyungsoo and Jongin can’t bring it in them to mind when they haven’t had to close before six since last year. The sky is dark by the time Kyungsoo locks up the shop, both from the night and the looming rain.

Jongin holds out his hand. Kyungsoo jogs to catch up and slots his fingers in between Jongin’s waiting ones. He feels the first few raindrops begin to fall and smiles. Rain and thunderstorms are his favorite type of weather.

He flips Jongin’s blue raincoat hood up over his head. Jongin does the same for him, neither wanting to admit that they like being doted on by their lover. They are both thankful for checking the forecast that morning and not getting drenched clothes. Rain is the most pleasant when one gets to stay dry, if you ask Kyungsoo.

“I feel like our hands were meant for each other. They fit so perfectly!” Jongin sighs into the crisp air. His breath is a foggy cloud on the wind. Kyungsoo squeezes his husband’s hand; there’s no one around on the empty winter street to notice, or even care. Lucky for them.

“Sehun’s right. You’re too gross for your own good.”

Jongin holds a hand up to his chest. “You wound me! Here I am being so lovable, and you don’t even acknowledge me…” He finishes with a pout sitting on his bottom lip. Kyungsoo peers around the alley they’re passing and finds not a single person- he sneaks a kiss to that lovable pout.

Kyungsoo is a little shocked at how quickly they reach their condo. Him and Jongin had saved up since college to get the nicest condo within the city limits (and within their price limit). Sehun and their friends had pitched in as their wedding gift as well and Kyungsoo couldn’t be happier. South Korea still hadn’t made gay marriage legal, but their friends flew out to America to celebrate with. As long as they support him and Jongin, then he had nothing to complain about.

Seven years and they’re like this. Owning a condo, running their own business, and still happy. Kyungsoo found it to be the product of perfect circumstances.

Their friends, mostly Jongdae and Baekhyun, always tease them that they shouldn’t have picked the ground level to live on. It’s the most likely to have heating and plumbing issues, most likely to be broken into, most likely to be destroyed if there’s flooding; everything bad that could happen would happen on the first floor. Junmyeon threw in his two cents and scolded them for picking it rather than teasing.

But Jongin and Kyungsoo didn’t relent. Neither liked heights (hated would be a more fitting term). Yet another reason Kyungsoo is so sure he had found his soulmate if the tattoo isn’t a testament to that fact.

“Oh! You go on up ahead. I wanted to stop and grab some groceries from the market,” Kyungsoo says as he digs through his pockets for his wallet. Jongin finds his own key and loops the keyring around his finger.

“For dinner?”

He nods. “I wanted to make sundubu jjigae tonight. I’ve been craving it all week.”

“It’s only Tuesday.”

“Well then all last week too.” Kyungsoo retorts, waving Jongin into the condo. His husband relents by putting the key into the lock and looking to Kyungsoo as if to say, ‘_happy now?’_.

“Love you, be back in twenty!”

“Love you, be safe! Don’t catch a cold!”

He steps out from the front entrance and hides a yawn behind his hand. Grocery shopping won’t take him too long. It will go faster with Kyungsoo’s want to go back home and stay cuddled up in Jongin’s arms with a movie playing. He loves being out in the rain like this but listening to it against the window panes while wrapped in warmth is even better.

Maybe they can watch _The Last Starfighter_. Or _Galaxy Quest_. Something sci-fi and preferably not high quality.

Kyungsoo makes up his mind to tell his suggestion of movie to Jongin as he moves his items to the checkout line. The girl seems overly peppy to be working a dinner shift at the local grocery store, but Kyungsoo offers her a polite smile anyways. He isn’t in the mood for mindless small talk with anyone but Jongin tonight. Kyungsoo takes his bags and thanks the girl before heading back out onto the busy street.

With his arms full of groceries, Kyungsoo fumbles for his keys once at their front door. He leans against the door for balance and stumbles when it swung open. Odd. Jongin always closes the door and locks it. Kyungsoo furrows his brow and comes in to set the groceries on the kitchen table. The crinkling of the plastic is the only sound in the entire condo.

“Nini?”

Kyungsoo hears no answer. He notices the lights were off- only the streetlights from the open door lit the room and the occasional flash of lightning. He shuts the door and deadbolts it for good measure before turning on the lights. As he does, he calls out a short _“jagi?”._

The lights flickers on. Jongin’s still wet shoes are resting by the doormat. His keys and wallet on the table. His blue raincoat on the chair’s back.

But all Kyungsoo could see is broken glass from the side window. It’s scattered over the floor to the point Kyungsoo keeps his shoes on to walk through the living room. His heartbeat increases to a pounding pace.

“Jongin? Please, just answer.”

Kyungsoo is growing desperate. Jongin isn’t in the bathroom or the office. In the back of his mind, Kyungsoo notices the computers and TV are missing, but his mind is focused on his husband. _Things_ can be replaced. A life can’t be.

The only room left to check is the bedroom.

Kyungsoo turns the light on and examines the room with desperate eyes. The window in here is broken as well, but Jongin still is nowhere in sight. Just as he is about to turn, Kyungsoo sees his husband’s socks. They were the fuzzy ones Jongin loves so much. Blue with little sheep jumping around and warm beyond belief. Kyungsoo bought them last Christmas as a stocking stuffer for Jongin.

He doesn’t want to approach the body the socks were on. But Kyungsoo wills himself too. He has to.

The tears don’t stop when he finally sees Jongin. The seven stab wounds were too much, the doctors say. Too much internal damage, too much blood loss, too much pain.

Kyungsoo doesn’t say a word as the corpse of his husband is zipped in a body bag.

Kyungsoo takes a breath, took a sip of coffee to wake his sluggish mind. It doesn’t help.

Seven days and he’s like this. And Kyungsoo knows he won’t be changing anytime soon. The therapists scare him, his friends offering their support, but it does nothing but fuel the despair coursing through Kyungsoo’s veins.

He continues pressing down harder on the accelerator. Kyungsoo knows this highway by heart. He and Jongin drove it most weekends up to the national park where they hike during the warm months. Jongin loved nature, loved anything outdoors. A turn is coming up around the edge of the mountain.

Kyungsoo knew this path by heart.

On Route 87, he jerks the steering wheel to steer the care over the black pavement. The road turns left and Kyungsoo turns right. Those fences around the edge of the road are pretty flimsy, Kyungsoo decides.

The beat-up Honda Civic doesn’t do much against a five-hundred-meter drop.

Yet another marriage, begun and ended with broken glass.

* * *

Hakyeon is going to kill him. Scratch that, Hakyeon is going to beat, castrate, and then kill him. Jongin isn’t sure in what order he’s going to be injured from that list, but it is going to happen. He flips the hood of his black up higher over his head. The rain is relentless, and he has the luck to get caught outside in it.

Lightning fills the sky only to be followed by the rumbles of thunder. The rain turns into little chunks of hail that pelt Jongin’s body. Great. Not only is Hakyeon pissed off, but so is Taekwoon. He’s already listing all the viable excuses he could use in his head before he’s even at their apartment. Jongin shoves his hands up further into his sleeves so they won’t be soaked more than they already are.

The rain continues to pour. It’s cold and miserable and Jongin sneezes three times in a row from a cold he already has. Of course, it would save him all the trouble in the world to teleport, but he couldn’t afford to get caught. Not again. His ID marker was already flagged by IPRA- the International Paranormal Repression Agency- and the last thing Jongin needs is to give them a reason to detain him. Being a witch isn’t everything he read about in the old human lore books.

He reaches the run-down apartment after what feels like an hour. Jongin heaves the door open at the same time as he pushes it with his shoulder. The elevator is out of order, leaving Jongin no option but to take the stair up five flights. By the time he reaches the top, his feet are aching, and his body is about ready to collapse form exhaustion.

At the door, Jongin doesn’t even have to reach for the handle before Wonsik is throwing it open. Damn him and his auras and his empathetic gifts. Jongin is pulled into a hug before Hakyeon catches the fabric of his raincoat to drag inside the doors.

“What the fuck do you think you were doing, huh?” Hakyeon all but screams into his face. The storm outside mirrors Hakyeon’s rage. The elder witch holds up a hand as if to smack Jongin across the face (Jongin briefly registers the wind picking up and the thunder rumbling low and constant) before dropping it by his waist. Taekwoon stands with his arms crossed half in the kitchen, half in the living room.

“I didn’t know it was a stake out.”

“We warned you that the deal was fishy, Jongin,” Taekwoon adds. “No one orders second tier hexes in bulk. Between the cost and the fear of the hexes cross-reacting during transport is too great.”

Jongin scuffs the floor with his foot. Wordlessly, he tugs his jacket and shoes off, leaving them by the door to dry. He suppresses a sneeze, suddenly wishing that he had his own room to crawl into and live until the end of time.

“Just… we can’t afford to lose another.”

“I know.” Jongin stares at the floor. “I’m sorry.”

If he had any doubts if his other two friends forgave him, they were quelled by Wonsik throwing a blanket over his shoulders and Taekwoon coming back in from the kitchen with a bowl of freshly made cure-all tonic. And with Taekwoon making it, Jongin knows his cold will be gone by the morning.

He sips the cool liquid from the shallow bowl. Wonsik sits down on the couch next to him and throws an arm over his shoulder. The warmth from his friend and the sweetness still lingering on his tongue from the tonic bring about all the emotions that Jongin is pushing down bubbling up to his surface.

“It’s okay, Jongin. It was a mistake, but not on purpose,” Wonsik says with a low voice.

“I didn’t mean to- I just thought I could handle this on my own. But there were so many, and all with guns and tranquilizers,” Jongin cries with sudden tears. “I had no choice but to teleport. They know my face, they had the chance to scan my ID before I knew what was happening too.”

Wonsik stiffens. Jongin couldn’t hold that detail from his friends, his brothers. Because of his mistake, their entire existence may be in jeopardy.

“Will we have to move?”

He already knows the answer. They couldn’t risk the capture of another one of their brothers. Not after Sanghyuk and Hongbin. It’s too easy to slip into a sense of safety. The only thing that usually ripped them out of it is the death of another witch.

“We’ll give it until Thursday. If there’s any sign they’ve found our apartment, we’ll move. And then keep an eye on everything after.”

Jongin nods but tears up again. The tonic Taekwoon made for him had a sedative if the way the teleporter’s eyes are dropping is any indication.

Jongin briefly registers Wonsik getting up from the couch. A blanket is draped over his body as a pillow is squished between his head and the couch cushion. Sleeping in a bed would have been nice, but Jongin knew they couldn’t afford the luxury. They were lucky to even find a cheap sofa when they originally moved in.

“Get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”

He plans to do just that.

Except, that peaceful morning talk never comes.

Jongin wakes up to two men aiming guns at his head. Another handful are searching through the kitchen, and even more dragging an unconscious Taekwoon out of his room. Jongin doesn’t feel panicked yet. He simply wonders if Hakyeon’s room or Wonsik and Taekwoon’s was raided first.

His eyes meet the shorter guard’s eyes. A flash of recognition crosses the guard’s face and he shoots Jongin with a tranquilizer in the neck.

Jongin comes to with a sharp kick to the ribs. A hiss escapes his lips as his hands fly up to rub at the pained area. Well, he tries to. His hands are held together by a metal contraption chained to his bed post. He doesn’t have the time to look around before another kick is delivered to his aching body.

“Get up, witch.”

How Jongin despises his title when it’s an insult. An insult to the thousands of years of cultivation his people had put into magic- the connection between this world and the next, between man’s desire and nature herself- all to be boiled down to a simple word spat with disgust. Jongin scrambles to get his bearings together before the chain is unhooked.

This would be his chance to run, but Jongin knows he wouldn’t make it. Sure, the guard is much shorter and a stockier build, yet others would be waiting for him. His hands are stilled chained together in the front of his body and a metal collar around his neck.

“Where’re my brothers?”

The guard offered him a smile as sweet as rotten fruit. “You’ll meet again ‘em soon enough.”

Jongin doesn’t like that answer. Nothing fucks with his brothers. Not even himself.

Once the two were past the first door and in a spot without any other guards, Jongin shot his foot out and kicked the guard’s knee to the side. It gave out with a resounding crack. The guard yelps in pain. As he reaches for his radio to call for backup, Jongin knees his nose. Blood sprays out; the guard tumbles back onto the ground. Jongin dashes forward.

A door is in his way for only a moment. Jongin readies himself for teleport. His mind clears, and the world goes blank in front of him. The portal to the paths opens in front of his body. Jongin tries to take a step into the emptiness but can only manage to stick his feet through. His hand and neck are prohibited as if an invisible wall stood in his way.

The guard is shambling down the hall towards Jongin. His mouth is screwed into a hideous grimace. Backup is coming and Jongin has no place to run. Jongin’s mind rushes as he berates himself for forgetting such a simple fact. Teleportation in and of itself is not real. He simply uses the faerie paths abandoned by their own makers years ago. And faeries are notorious for not allowing any material that ties a being to the mortal world into their paths.

And man-made metal- steel, to be precise- is the worst of all.

The original door Jongin is trying to bypass opens. A swarm of guards rush in. They take one look at Jongin before slamming the butt of a rifle into the back of his skull.

Jongin wakes up a second time. But now, he has a guard stationed in the room with him and another set of chains around his legs. All more steel. Whoever had planned his imprisonment knew his abilities well.

He chooses to keep his mouth shut as the guard sneers down at his battered form. Jongin keeps a steady eye as the guard turns to talk to another through the sliding window of the door. A tattoo is peeking out between his collar and helmet.

“I like the tattoo.”

The guard doesn’t respond. Jongin can’t tell if the man didn’t hear him or chose not to.

“The flowers are nice. We always kept them in vases around the apartment.”

The guard’s eyes steel. “What do you know about the flowers?” His voice his sharp and Jongin flinches. He scrambles for some answer, but the guard is stomping forward before he has the chance to. A hand rips at the back collar of his shirt. The same area where the guard’s tattoo is, is exposed to the chilly air of his cell.

Jongin has no clue what this guard is looking for.

“I just thought they were pretty, that’s all. Striking up conversation, y’know?”

Once again, the guard makes as though he is going to beat Jongin. The witch curls back into himself, away from the anger radiating off the guard.

“Pretty… right. What type are they?”

Jongin’s face scrunches. This conversation is feeling more like an interrogation than the actual ones he had earlier in the day. “Um… blue ones? I’m not great at flower types.” That isn’t the right answer. The guard’s anger becomes evident once again. “I’m sorry, but am I supposed to know what they mean?”

The guard straightens himself up. “No.” He dusts off his pants, readjusts the hat on his head, and makes sure his name tag isn’t crooked. Before he leaves, Jongin catches sight of his name.

_Officer Do Kyungsoo_.

That name doesn’t stick in his mind.

Jongin can’t think of any names other than his brothers when he is executed the next morning.

* * *

Kyungsoo steps out of his apartment with keys in hand. He locks the door before turning and trudging down the worn-out hall. Winter isn’t his favorite season: too much cold, too much snow, too much white.

The sidewalk hasn’t even been cleared when he begins his journey to the office. Sure, he feels a little crazy being out so early without a single other soul in sight, but duty calls. About halfway through the walk, Kyungsoo finally passes another person.

They make eye contact. It’s a shared experience of being out so early in after a snowstorm. Kyungsoo smiles courteously from under his scarf to the tanned man with sleepy eyes. He receives a polite smile in return.

He keeps walking.


End file.
